


The perfect sleeping arrangement

by bellofthetolppl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Disorder, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Mommy Kink, Nightmares, Smut, and clarke spoons him a lot, and he loves her breasts lol, and her taking care of him, idk how to do this ive never posted smut pls let me know if i gotta change something or add smth, okay so basically bellamy is very vulnerable in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27840040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellofthetolppl/pseuds/bellofthetolppl
Summary: Bellamy always tries to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders but at night he's breaking apart-anxiety and nightmares are tearing him up, yet he won't let Clarke take care of him. Unless she insists and he starts opening up to her.Angst, fluff, spooning and smut ensue!
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 30
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [star_sky_earth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_sky_earth/gifts).



> A/N: This all happened because of Mary, so yall got her to blame, I never write smut, clearly I am awful at it, so don't go too hard on me, okay?
> 
> Can't believe I'm posting this.
> 
> But frankly we need a mommy!kink in this fandom, I believe.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @bellamyblake!

The only time Bellamy ever allowed Clarke to take care of him was at night. 

During the day it was all about him doing everything he possibly could-going hunting, passing by medbay to bring her lunch, toss a scarf over her naked neck so she doesn’t get sick, ask her mom if she got anything for breakfast over her rolling eyes, make sure she comes back home before ten even though there’s a council meeting that night that he won’t attend because of his guard shift.

And it wasn’t just about her really-still, two years after they set their camp and started actually building it, he was taking care of the hundred as if they were his own children just like when they first landed-he brought Jasper a new jacket, fixed the roof of the co-joined cabin that Harper, Monty, Miller and a few other kids used, made sure to raid long-forgotten bunkers for winter supplies, participated in the shoveling of the snow, smoaking the meat from the game he had caught, helping Raven with the electricity solutions she needed figuring out as well as taking up as many guard shifts as he could especially during the winter when it was harder for the delinquents.

He even volunteered once a week in the small day care they opened last fall, reading books and telling stories to the kids in the midst of giving them a few history lessons here and there.

Overall he was stretching himself a little too thin and Clarke hated it even though whenever they fought about it, he always made sure to remind her that she’s no better than him.

And that may have been true but the thing was, he refused to let anyone ever take care of him, even her.

Even though he made sure she was fine all the damn time and it was the little things that broke her-him making her tea in the evening, bringing her hot water for her freezing feet and making sure she warmed up after her enthusiastic run in the back yard when the first snow hit, him tucking her up at night even when she kicked the blanket or finding the right kind of animal skin so he would sew her gloves for the winter.

He had even learned how to knit from a grounder woman during the summer festival and when they got back to camp he secretly traded a few sweaters for some yarn, only to start working on a beautiful blue scarf for her that he wrapped around her once the first winter days arrived.

It was great being with Bellamy but it was also heartbreaking, watching him give all of himself away and never expect anything in return.

Even when they kissed or had sex he always made sure she’s came first, always made sure to show her just how much he loved her, whispering words about her beautiful body in her ear as he teased her clit and bring her over the edge.

But when Clarke wanted to do the same, he’d try to get away, refusing the attention.

Some mornings she’d feel his hard cock against her butt and reach over to take him, turn around and kiss him, try to give him a good time but he’d kiss her forehead, mumble something like _“I’m fine, princess, have to get to work, maybe some other time.”_ and slip away leaving her angry and sad that he just denied himself pleasure.

She knew why he did it, she had seen it from the moment back at that tree on their unfortunate day trip-he didn’t think he deserved it even though she had tried to make it known, even though she always made sure to show him how much he means to her, how much she loves him-but it wasn’t about that, it has never been about that-the fact remained-he didn’t believe he was worthy of being loved, of pleasure, even when it came from the person he cared for most in the world and who cared for him just as much in return.

The thing was, he tried to hide his problems away from her as well and that had been the last straw to turn things around. 

At first it was his inability to sleep because of anxiety-he had a few days or even a week sometimes every month when he couldn’t sleep-nightmares plagued him and left him weak and exhausted but he would try to hide it from her at first until one night she came home and found him so tired that he had passed out by the hearth, having only just started the fire.

She can't even move him no matter how hard she wants to. She kneels down, puts her hands under his armpits and tries but he's so heavy. On top of everything he's all wet from the snow-his jacket's peppered with fastly melting snowflakes, his hair was drenched-the curls stuck to his forehead, he was freezing and she knew his boots leaked too, so she had to get him out of it and warm him up. 

”Come on, Bell, wake up, let's get you to bed.” and he manages to wake up, get to a half-awake state but he's so out of it, like a drunk five year old who had absolutely no idea what was happening to him.

”C-larke?”

“Yeah, come on, please I can't lift you on my own."

“I'm tired.” he mumbles.

“I know, but you need to get to bed.”

“Why?”

“Because it's cold out here you'll get sick”

“I'm fine...it's by the fire...just...leave me”

“No, I’m not leaving you, come on, please.” she’s desperate at that point, feels her own tears picking up at her eyes.

“It's okay, I like it here.”

“It's the wooden floor, your back already hurts, it's time for bed, please help me, please,” he groans a little, too tired to even lift his head and look at her but then she adds _“for me.”_

And that does it.

He manages to lift his feet just a little so she can drag him to bed and spray him diagonally at first, then she starts undressing him slowly, he's moaning everything hurts him-he's absolutely exhausted, tired to his very bone, hadn't slept in days, worked all through it too on top of it.

He's a baby when she undresses him he goes _“I’m cold.”_ when he doesn't have clothes on or _“Ohh, my feet!”_ when she takes his boots off and finds his blisters.

She’s pretty sure he’s only ever saying that because he’s not coherent of anything happening around him and he’s just a child speaking his mind.

It wasn’t just a one time deal, though-it kept happening and it worsened significantly with the change of the seasons-when winter settled he got bad, really damn bad and his anxiety made him jumpy, sad and insomniac.

In the spring it was a little better but still quite hard and the hot summer nights would throw him into another nightmare spiral that could last a month and leave him absolutely exhausted until the autumn winds hit and allowed him to breathe somewhat.

She takes him to Jackson when she comes home one night to find him passed out in his work clothes again. This time he's too tired to fully wake so she has to pile the blankets and pillows on the floor and sleep with him there to make sure he's warm enough.

Clarke figures out quickly that he loves being spooned, held, kissed-he groaned content when she ran her fungers through his hair-he liked being warm but he didn’t wear clothes in bed except for his boxers and he enjoyed most of all when she tucked him in first after taking all of his clothes and then sliding in bed, wrapping herself like a monkey around him and holding him tight.

Jackson had prescribed him some anxiety meds but after talking to some grounders at the summer Polis trade between clans, Clarke found herbs they could use to brew as a tea for him to drink.

It didn’t always do the job but it helped significantly. 

Still, she figured out he had a need for her late at night in those vulnerable moments and the more they occured, the more he allowed himself to be like this despite the constant battle in his heart.

He liked being pampered, liked her momming him, taking care of him like that.

But there was still something that tips the scales and it comes from the most unexpected places of all.

Second year around when the camp is up and running, all of them have to go through the mandatory health check ups.

Of course, Bellamy had tried to get away with his, sneak out but Clarke had grabbed him by the collar-literally and dragged him there for his mom to do it, knowing if it was her, they probably would end up with her pinned on the cot, him on top, pushing into her, instead of her taking in his pulse.

And that’s when it happens-her mom takes in his blood pressure and finds it too high, listens to his heart carefully and furrows her eyebrows as she focuses. Clarke feels the cold spread through her from her back through her entire body when her mom tells them things are out of norm but that if he takes some blood pressure medicine to regulate it, everything will be alright.

Clarke hates herself for it though-she should’ve noticed it sooner. She always let herself be held by him and she had noticed, as she rest her head over his chest, that his heart beat too fast but she thought it was just him being too tired or maybe the anxiety was making it worse for him but she never once thought something could be wrong.

That’s when things changed and she refused to let him get away with being taken care of anymore.

His heart beat became her good night lullaby.

During the day he was still Bellamy the guard, Bellamy the hunter, Bellamy the protector of his silly kids starting with Jasper, Bellamy the love of her life who brought her lunch.

But at night things shifted.

He’d sit in bed and wait for her to come out of the bathroom.

“Took your anxiety meds?” he nods seriously “The blood pressure ones?”

“Yep.”

“You sure?” he had stupid phase where he tried not to take them for a few weeks so they could save recources and ration them and she hadn’t talked to him for days after.

“I’m sure, Clarke.”

“Good boy.” she praises as she comes over “Time for bed now.” she lays him down covers him up and he looks at her with big brown beautiful eyes. 

”You coming?”

“Right in, you big baby.” she promises as she leans over and kisses his forehead. 

“Can you hold me?” he’s learned to ask for that with time and she had made sure to show him how proud she was of it. 

“Of course.” she tucks him in and then quickly slides in on the other side of bed, wrapping herself around him, her arm over his chest and leg thrown over his. Her other one sneaks under his neck and she pushes his head to her chest so that he’s a little lower than her and her chin cover his head. That way she had quick access to his hair and she runs her fingers through his curls gently, helping him relax.

Because at night she sleeps deep, she doesn’t always hear when he wakes up from his nightmares or terrors and the only thing betraying him would be the dark circles under his eyes in the morning, so she has to ask every night how the previous one had been because only then would he be honest.

“How was last night?” he knows the question will come so he shivers a little as she holds him.

“Not too bad.”

“How many times did you wake up?”

“Once” he lies. She tightens her grip on his chest.

“Your shirt was soaked, Bell.” he shrugs and closes his eyes but she insists ”So? How many times?”

“Three.” he lets out quietly and she wraps herself tighter around him

“Why didn't you wake me up?”

“You know I can't.” she knew he wouldn’t, he never did. Unless she was there to scold him and force him to lay still while she took care of him after a night terror, he wouldn’t say a thing. 

He had admitted once that he would wake up gasping for breath but force himself not to move too much and instead just stare at the ceiling while he calmed down so he wouldn’t wake her up.

She hated it. She hated whatever made him hate himself so much that he’d refuse to reach out even to her.

She knew it was about the way he was raised-his mom loved him according to his words and fond memories of her, but she was stern and had expectations for him especially after Octavia was born when the real hell began. 

He had anxiety then too, night terrors as well, he may have developed this heart condition just because of the constant stress he was put under, he just had no way of knowing it.

One night as she was holding him he admitted he wouldn’t sleep at night after O was born, he’d check on her and his mom all the time, then sleep by the door when they knew there would be random check ups in Factory.

He’d fall off his bed as he tossed in his nightmare sleep, he’d shake all the time, grow restless or too tired, get angry sometimes-all signs of what he was still suffering from now.

Something else that happened lately as she came to find out-because he was so exhausted from his lack of sleep, he’d take short naps in hiding, away from her, so he wouldn’t bother her with his pain.

He’d go to the small overhang they had in the backyard where they kept the woods and sleep there and she’d hate it when he did that because it was so cold there she worried he’d get sick or he'd hide out in the kitchen while Murphy prepared dinner after bringing in the game he caught with the hunting party outside. He'd even spray on one of the metal tables at Raven and Monty's tent where they discussed plans for the camp.

So she knows, comes to figure out that spooning him and holding him helped a lot so all of this didn't have to happen. So he wouldn't have to hide away.

But something else did too.

Clarke would ask him if he’s okay, if she could do something else besides holding him but he’d of course shake his head and grumple a soft childish _“I’m fine.”_

She’d know better do, could always tell by the way he folds into her if he’s more vulnerable than usual, if it’s worse that night than the previous from the way his hands tremble or how he pushes his head into her hand looking for her touch.

In those nights, like tonight, she slides her hand down to hix boxers, digs in and pumps his cock to hardness. 

He gasps a little, pushes his back into hers and looks up, searching for her eyes.

He doesn't want her to worry so much, so he tries to tell her it's okay but she wouldn't hear it and she jerks him off like this from behind. She knew exactly how he liked it by now-starting slowly, teasingly from the tip of his cock before sliding all the way down and cupping his balls for a moment before taking him in again.

His legs kick off the blanket just a little, he arches his back and she reins him in, calms him down, by kissing him softly, starting from his cheek, to his chin, sliding down to his neck, peppering him with her love, making sure to pay attention to all the freckles she sees in her way.

Her other hand is still in his hair-tucking at his curls, moving his head just the right way to expose more of him to her, give her a better angle as he gasps into her arms and calls for her untill he comes gasping, head buried in her chest, begging to be held, tighter, to be cuddled.

Finally, she lets him roll over when he's spent and he buries his head in her chest. 

Clarke knows what he wants. 

He loved sucking her tits after a good blowjob like this but she teases him a little like a boy who wants to be fed in the middle of the night but his mom's sleeping.

Bellamy buries his nose between her tits, breathes her in, lets her run her fingers through his curls, soft talk him, baby him until his quiet moans turn to desperate ones and he starts sucking, searching for her through her thin shirt.

“So impatient.” she jokes “You want some of that big boy?”

He whines, writhes against her just a bit, searching for more like a desperate hungry kid.

“What's up?” she runs her fingers through his hair once more while he keeps trying to bury deeper into her, probably hating the fact that she decided to wear a shirt tonight but it was winter and she was cold. “You hungry?”

He groans, buries his head even closer, searches for her nipple but can't find it through the awful angle that her tits are in now that she’s laying on her side “Want me to lift that up for you?” she asks grabbing the hem of her shirt that is in fact one of his “Want to suck on mom's tits?”

He looks up then, moves away a little and she wants to laugh at how cute and adorable he is-his mouth hanging a little, saliva drooling on his chin from his desperate attempts to get to her tits. 

He gives her a soft hurt look, his eyes so lost and desperate, the barest of nods and she just can't deny him when he does that-he’s so sweet, so gentle, so broken.

_And so exhausted._

_“Maybe this will help him fall into a fitful sleep.”_ Clarke thinks as she cups his cheek and runs her thumb over the dark circle under his eye. 

He's so tired, it's the absolute picture perfect of a boy turned baby needing his mom and a hungry for his partner man.

She can’t handle it, would be lying if this wasn’t doing things to her too, so she raises herself up just a little and pulls her shirt off. 

His reaction is immideate, he doesn’t even wait for her to fully lay back down when he takes the nipple of her right breast in his mouth and sucks on it hard. 

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her up closer to him, wants to feel all of her pressed to his body, needs to have her there with him. 

He doesn't just kiss her he sucks on her like a baby that's expecting for milk to come and it leaves her gasping and thrusting into his leg at the feel of her own wetness pooling into her but it is him that breaks her heart- he's so desperate for love and affection it's absolutely devastating for her.

It's noisy, he's smacking on her like a hungry baby and he's beautiful, so damn beautiful.

But he also never forgets about her-he sneaks his hand down to her ass and squeezes it, which makes her panties drench with her wetness and she grinds a little into him but she doesn't need release-this is about him, just him.

He gets a little hard again but it's not about that either now-he just wants to suck on her breasts and move his hands down her ass then up her back, then to her stomach-he loves touching her stomach, the softness there, the round curves that make her arch her back a little, makes her moan above him, reach out and put her hand on his shoulders, looking for something to support her.

Then he goes down to her panties, sinks in a finger into her making her gasp as he moves to her other breast, smacking just as hard, desperate for her beautiful breasts, desperate to beheld in her arms, to be vulnerable around her but also to love her, to let it pour out of him in any way possible.

And when he's had enough of touching her he brings his fingers up, pulls away for just a moment so he could spread her wetness around her nipple before sucking onto it hard again.

“Bellamy-” she gasps and he moves away from her nipple for just a second, peppers her chest with soft little kisses, moves to the valley of her breasts, drags his tongue there before sucking onto the skin just above her right breast and pulling her closer to him by the waist.

_“Bell-”_

He moves away a little, looks up at her asking if he did something wrong, worrying like always but she just takes his face in her hands and pulls him in for a kiss. She’s as desperate to have him as he is her but Clarke knows this is about him, so after she lets him go they just pant a little, breathe with hurry and desperation after their recent endeavours. 

Her hand falls to his chest, his fast beating heart and she wants to command it to slow down.

“Ready to fall now?” she asks and he sneaks a glance down to her chest again before he looks right up, not daring speak out his desires but trying to silently ask for them anyway.

Without words.

_He could never speak for himself._

_But she would._

“You can take one if you want to.” she prompts him gently tugging at his neck and pushing him back to her chest.

“You don’t mind?” he asks and his voice comes out too small, too scared for her liking.

Clarke hurries to shake her head.

“In fact I love it.” he tilts his head a little as if asking _“Really?”_ and she smiles “I love having you so close at night.”

HIs head falls and he looks down for a minute, accepting her answer, but trying to gather up the courage to ask something else.

“Will you still hold me?”

“Of course I will.” she promises and he smiles, beams really in a way she rarely sees on him which makes her sad because he should be like this all the time.

He quiets down after but not before slipping his hand back in her pants and sinking three fingers into her again, it's like he just wanted to be there, always, being the Bellamy that he is, to always give in return. 

She grinds a little into him, he pumps her some but then they settle. 

She watches him, cups his cheek runs her hand through his curly bangs smiles and kisses his forehead. 

He gets a little shy like what he wants of her is too much, too weird maybe but she confirms again with a little nod that says ”It's okay, you can go ahead” and he wraps his mouth around her nipple again and smacks like a baby until finally he quiets and they fall asleep like this-his fingers in her and his mouth on her-the perfect sleeping arrangement.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay I never thought I'd write more of this but I guess I need to take a break of my major story sometimes so I can write it better and this is the way.
> 
> I also never thought I'd write that much smut.
> 
> Please note that I've changed the tags. There's some childhood abuse here, talk about scars, Bellamy being hurt as a kid.  
> My boy's just a very stressed ball of anxiety that needs to be taken care of...
> 
> And I guess that's one way of Clarke to help.
> 
> I'm once again reiterating that I can't write smut so take this however you wanna take it.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @bellamyblake!

The next week or so things get busy around camp and Clarke doesn’t get to see that much of Bellamy even if she desperately wants to.

He was working hard on finishing up two more smoke houses before the winter got worse, then the first snow hit and unfortunately a part of the northern gate wall fell so he had to of course be involved in fixing it-chopping even more woods, bringing it home, carrying it to the assigned location, overall just working really hard.

As if the smoke houses or the hunting parties he went to every other day weren’t enough of a strain on his body.

On top of that many of the guards folks either got sick with the flu or got frostbite from the long night shifts so many of them were out of duty and of course, _of damn course_ , Bellamy stepped in to fill all the shifts that were lacking in personel.

Meanwhile, she was busy with medbay, helping out her mom and Jackson with all the patients, treating coughs or broken bones or nasty gaping wounds from hunting trips inbetween her council duty, work meetings with Kane or Raven and Monty.

With her mom it was easy, they could discuss stuff in the midst of surgery or work but she had to give others her time and that left almost none for Bellamy.

What she hated the most was how little she saw of him because of all that.

Winter, and especially the beginning of it, has always been a busy time of the year for them but she would’ve been taking it better, had she not been so worried about him.

She had no idea how things were going-if he was taking his meds, drinking his tea, even eating solid food or dressing well because the only time he’d ever allow himself to be vulnerable, to be asked those questions and to answer honestly, _was late at night at home._

And those were severely lacking lately.

She came home to find him already gone for yet another night shift-he had started the fireplace, brought her food from mess hall or worse-cooked some which she hated him doing when he was so busy too and in the morning she’d wake alone and head to work just when he was coming back in.

They had a minute or two to exchange a quick kiss, hold each other, ask how each other’s day has been before her radio cackled and somoene with a problem, a need or a request was demanding her attention.

No matter what, though, he always made sure to come by lunch time and bring her food which lately worried her even more because if he was coming home at seven and then bringing her food by one thirty then did he manage to sleep at all?

The night shifts ruined his sleeping schedule even more, she knew that but that one time he had shared that he actually doesn’t mind them so much because he gets scared at night, to go to bed, to sleep knowing he would wake up shaking or anxious or both and this way he was calmer, focused on something and helped ease his racing mind.

But she also knew he couldn’t sleep during the day at all unless it was a nap here or there that could never last more than an hour.

This morning when she saw him coming in he was barely trudging on his feet-he was covered in snow from head to toe, his beautiful curls were frozen, his cheeks were rosy, his hands, fingers-blue and his boots, which she was sure by now were leaking, left wet traces on the wooden floor.

He literally couldn’t unclench his hands from his rifle-it was stuck in the position he had been holding it all night-his eyes were glassy and disoriented and his breathing short, interrupted, shallow.

“I thought I told you to take a hat last night?” she scolds measuring him with a look, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Forgot.” he mumbles as he starts taking off his holster, his rifle, everything attacked to him that was literally dripping water.

“How can you forget, Bellamy, it’s hanging right over there by the door!” 

All he does is grumble in responce, trying to let it be but she was angry, she hated seeing him like this and she wasn’t willing to.

“You can’t keep doing night shifts in the freezing cold with just a wanky paper-thin jacket on, Bellamy.” she keeps on as he picks up her own bag and shoves a couple of herbal little patches she made last night that she would use as tea in medbay today “Do you want to die out of a cold? Do you want to get sick?”

“I’m fine!” 

“Oh of course you are-look at me, _I’m big bad Bellamy Blake with my big bad rifle, I can stand on the wall all night without so much as uttering a word even if my bones are freezing to death!_ ” she imitates him as he unzips his jacket and she was ready to turn this into a joke, make it so that they laugh it off and maybe end with her reaching her point and telling him to take better care of himself until she sees what he’s wearing underneath.

_Which is just that-a shirt._

A simple brown tan shirt with holes on the sleeves and collar.

It’s fucking winter and the idiot was wearing nothing but a shirt that by the way seems as frozen cold as the rest of him, like literally frozen, that she was sure if she could take it off off him now and hit him on the head with it, he may actually hurt.

She feels all blood leave her face and her mouth hang open.

“What’s this?” she gestures at him and he looks down on himself confused.

“Hm?”

“Your shirt.”

“What about it?” he seems as clueless as ever but senses the anger in her voice.

“Bellamy, it’s minus ten degrees outside and you’re wearing nothing but a shirt under your jacket!” she scolds, feeling herself get angrier with every passing minute “You can’t go around and get me gloves and hats and scarfs or new jackets when you’re doing this.”

“I don’t understand-” he says and when he looks at her her heart softens a little-he seemed so desperately confused, like the boy he turned to at night, clueless, lost, even a little worried as to what he did to make her so mad.

He really didn’t, she sees it the way he so casually slumps, his shoulders sagging, he’s still standing by the door, dripping water as he started melting down from his frozen night.

She curses herself mentally-she forgot to start the fire, now he’d go to bed in a freezing room or worse, do it himself even though he was exhausted as hell.

How could she forget! **_He_** never forgot.

“You’re being stupid and irresponsible!” 

“Clarke-”

“No, I’m tired of this, you never goddamn get it, do you, Bellamy?” she’s angry again but deep down she knows it’s at herself, not him-she is mad she never went by the wall last night to see what he had on or that she didn’t start the fire or that frankly, she hadn’t even made the bed for him or thought to brew his anxiety tea or just...just anything.

She was so tired too.

But it wasn’t an excuse.

He did it, he brought her lunch every day, he sat with her and watched until she finished it, knowing that if he didn’t, she’d probably take a few bites and then drop it in favor of helping a patient even though her mom and Jackson were perfectly capable of covering for her for thirty minutes.

He raises his hands in the air, still looking absolutely confused.

“I don’t want to fight.” he says carefully but it just makes her more mad.

She grabs her jacket, throws it on hapharzadly as well as her messenger bag and heads for the door. 

“Clarke...Clarke, please, come on now-” he stumbles on his words, stutters even, his goddamn teeth were chattering-the idiot was freezing cold “I don’t get what I did.”

_“Find me when you do!”_ she barks back and closes the door with a thud, running down the stairs of their front porch, the porch he made with his bare hands just this summer and heads to medbay, striding across camp like a hurricane.

She thinks she’ll need an hour or so to calm down but she can’t help but get angrier the more she thought about it-the image of him standing there, dripping wet in his thin, definitely-not-witner clothes with a t-shirt, and that part truly infuriated her, just a t-shirt under his stupid holey, jacket, no hat or gloves on him,no nothing.

She hadn’t missed the way he staggered a little on his feet which probably meant he hasn’t slept well in days.

The dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced than a grounder’s war paint and she had noticed the way his stomach had sunk in under the stupid tan shirt-he hasn’t been eating.

Why was it that he refused to take care of himself?

Moreover-why wasn’t even the thought of that passing through his mind?

How could he feel cold but not think to put a sweater on or not sleep and just consider coming to her and telling her about it, asking for help?

She knew it wasn’t all his fault-it was just the way he was raised but goddammit his stupid selflessness was killing him. 

When her mind quited down a little, she started feeling bad-he had seem so confused, so tired and she stood there and yelled at him.

He probably spent the last twenty hours on his feet in yet another absolutely tiring day in a hell of a week time of the month and she just yelled at him.

She hated him not allowing himself to be vulnerable with her in any other moment but at night-he was stoically grumpy when he was in pain or tired during the day or pushing away any concern or small remark she may made over his well-being, that or he simply stood dumbfounded like this morning when she got angry over something stupid he had done to himself but he never, ever let her take care of him other than at night.

And recently, Clarke has not spend any of those with him.

She grits her teeth and pushes his chin up in determination as she fixes a cut on Sterling’s poor leg, deciding that she’ll talk to Kane later and tell him to cut off Bellamy’s shifts before she had started a revolution.

This had to end.

He as at the brink of his last remainig strength, she had to act now. Before something bad happened.

Little does she know in that moment that it already has happened at the point of her thinking about it all.

Her morning goes by fast and at noon they have to deal with a really bad hand break of one of the older men who slipped on the ice outside this morning, so she loses track of time. 

It’s not before she’s out of surgery, wiping away the sweat from her forehead and staring at the blood on her srubs thinking how much pain in the ass it’ll be to wash that one, when she glances at the clock and realizes it’s well pass two.

Her heart skips a beat.

Bellamy always brought her lunch at exactly one thirty-he was stupidly on time every damn day she was working and the fact that he was missing made the world spin for a moment.

_"It’s okay_ ," she tells herself, _"he probably passed by and left the plate with Harper or someone because she was in surgery that or he maybe finally fell asleep and got the rest he so desperately needed."_

“Hey, Harper, has Bell passed by?” she asks when she makes it back in the big hall with all the patients. They could never allow the courtesy of privacy, they simply didn’t have that much space so all cots were ordered in two neat rolls on both sides of the building which was yet another one of the structures in their camp that Bellamy had put his hands to work on, again mere months ago in the midst of the burning august heat.

He knew how worried she had been that they may not finish it before winter came so he put all his efforts and his own construction crew into finishing it before late September.

His back was dotted in knots, his hands covered in cuts but his smile on the day it was done when he brought her to see it, his smile, Clarke couldn’t forget.

“No, Clarke, I’m sorry.” her friend who has been training as a nurse in the past year and who was helping one of the sick women take some tea, looking at her with worry. “Maybe he got roped into something and couldn’t get out.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Clarke agrees with a weak smile that doesn’t reach her eyes but **_she knows_**...there’s a pit in her stomach that tells her something’s wrong.

She’s about to tell Harper that she’ll go check on him when the door opens and she hears someone’s fast steps in the small hallway before Miller pops up in the big hall, out of breath, sweat covering his face, leaning on the wooden wall.

“Clarke! Oh, thank god you’re here.”

“Miller?” she steps up “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Bellamy-” the moment he says it she feels the ground underneath her disappear “Idiot came by to help me fix the camp wall and we were just about to get this beam up when he passed out.”

“He **_what?_** ” she’s already taking off her white coat and grabbing her jacket and med kit when she heads to Miller “Is he okay?”

“I think so...he-I don’t think he got hurt or anything but he seems weak and I-” they’re already heading for the door “I didn’t know what to do. He was begging me not to tell you but I’m worried about him. He can’t even stand up.”

Clarke grits her teeth and clenches her hands in fists-goddamn this stupid idiot.

“Harper-” she turns to her but the girl has already read her mind.

“Go ahead, I got it here.” she promises “Take care of him.”

“I will.” she promises as she follows Miller outside _“I should’ve done it earlier”_ she thinks as they stride towards the wall.

Miller’s scared, jumpy, he keeps blabbing about not getting how it happened and that he seemed a little wobbly last night during their shift but he never said anything but Clarke’s quiet-she doesn’t need to figure it out, she already knows what happened, she only has herself to blame for letting it get to this.

When they finally get there they find him sitting on a log, leaning on the wall, figure slumped, eyes barely opened.

She rushes to him and kneels down, picking his chin and dropping her med bag next to her.

“Bellamy-” she pats his cheek “Bell, wake up!” his eyes open just a crack and he looks at her like he did that night a week ago-all small and as if he’s drunken on his pain and exhaustion.

“Clarke?” he swallows hard, tries to make sense of his surroundings but he can’t. “You...shouldn’t be here.” she shakes her head and grabs her light pen, flashing it in his eyes, finding his pupils dialated, then her hand shoots to his neck and finds his pulse thrudding too fast and uneven for her liking.

“Miller, I need you to help me get him home.” she says putting her stuff back on and grabbing his arm-there was no point in trying to talk to him here-they were outside in the cold and he wasn’t even aware of what was happening but even when he was as tired he’d still stubbornly try to fight her on helping him because...they were outside, there were people out here, people who he couldn’t let see him weak, people who couldn’t witness her taking care of him as much as he needed it.

“Is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine, he’s just tired and cold.”

“Oh, okay.” Miller exhales at that and Clarke knows he carries the worry all of the delinquents did when it came to Bellamy or her being hurt-they couldn’t lose their leaders, not after everything they’ve been through, they needed them. “Come on, man, let’s get you home.” Miller easily throws Bellamy’s arm over his shoulders and gets him up but Bellamy’s so weak and tired that he almost ends up on his knees so the boy has to adjust him in a way that Bellamy’s poor body is half slumped on Miller’s back and somehow, like this, they make it to the cabin.

The porch stairs prove to be a diffuclty but with Clarke’s help they make it in and surprisingly Bellamy wakes up even if just for a moment and realizes how ashamed he is of himself when Miller puts him in bed but he stubbornly tries to remain sitting.

“Radio me if you need something, Clarke!” he tells her before she leaves.

“Thank you, Miller.” she promises with a polite smile as she closes the door behind him.

Then she turns around and the moment she does she sees how Bellamy’s slumped body is falling forward.

She rushes in and manages to grab him last minute, shoving her arms under his and pushing him back on the bed, carefully placing him laying down.

“Clarke-” he’s finally relaxed, his broken messed up brain, as tired as it was, realized that up until that moment Miller was here, but now that he was gone, his face, all slacked and beautifully sleepy was finally...her Bellamy.

The Bellamy she could take care of.

“Shh-” she quiets him, running her hand through the curls on his forehead and moving them away “I’m here.” she promises “I’ll take care of you, okay?”

He manages a nod now and she takes a moment to gather herself, squeezes her eyes shut and thinks how damn awfully tired he looked and how much she hates it before she gets up to work.

The room was freezing cold, he never started the fire, he probably didn’t have the strength to, so she decides that because he’s shaking like a leaf, the first thing she’ll do is get woods from the back porch and get it on.

Now that he’s laying horizontally she’s not afraid he’ll fall and get hurt but he wasn’t exactly resting either. He was mumbling stuff under his nose, his head was tossing left and right and he was shivering so bad she winced when she looked at him.

“Hey, I got you, come on, let’s take those wet clothes off of you.” she comes back once the fire is on and the heat of it immideately spreads through the room.

She peels off his jacket, then takes off the awful tan shirt and puts a new one, the blue, her favorite on him, then adds one of the thick black sweaters he and Miller found in a bunker and runs her hands up and down his arms to warm him up.

He moans a little moves his head up searching for her.

“Clarke-”

“Shh, you’re okay.”

“I’m cold.”

“I know, you’ll be warm soon.” she promises before moving down to his pants and taking them off, realizing they are completely wet like they were in the morning and he never changed them.

Because of that his boxers were soaking too and she shakes her head-he was damn stupid leaving his wet underwear on and she carefully, with much difficulty pulls them off, finding his cock just a little hard but blue and freezing cold just like his ass. Her hand cups him just barely and he moans, pushing into her a little, his eyes open up and he calls for her.

“You know I thought we wanted kids one day.” she murmers a little angrily “If you keep it up like this, you may not have a way of reproducing.” though he’s tired, that cracks a little smile out of him and just because he’s pushing into her a little, she strokes him a few times to quiet him down, just like a baby that needed ice cream. 

“We don’t have time for this now, okay? I gotta warm you up.” he groans unhappy when she removes her hand from him and for a minute there she ponders if to put in on a new pair or leave him like that but decides to leave him naked from the waist down and throws in two blankets and a few pelts on him before she puts on some water over the fire to warm up.

His shivers quiet down but he is half up, looking for her, calling her every now and then while she goes around the house doing what she needs to be done just like a mom busy with her chores and her kid needing her attention.

She fills in four bottles of hot water and slides under the covers with him, placing them on both sides of his torso and down near his feet to warm him up.

“Oh...that’s...good.” he mumbles when he feels it spread through him and because she’s there, half laying down, he of course seeks her attention, turns his head to her and tries to move closer, but she’s still mad and she still needs to take care of him.

“Don’t move!” she warns before she sneaks out, grabs her med kit and takes out her stetoscope.

“No-” he moans when she sees that she’s putting them on and reaches for his shirt “No...I don’t want that-”

“Should’ve thought about it before you went out there and passed out, you idiot.”

“Nooo, Clarke, no-” he begs and tries to swat her hands away from him but she grabs his wrist and gives him a deadly look.

“Let me check on you now or I’ll drag you to medbay and force you to stay there for a week myself!” at that he huffs, drops his hands even if a little too unhappily, forcefully and she quickly slides in her hands to his chest, pressing the stethoscope to his body. 

“Cold!!! Cold, cold, cold!!!” he yelps and tries to move away from her but she puts her hand on his shoulder and keeps him down.

“Oh, so now you’re cold, huh? Not when you spent an eight hour shift in the freezing winter night!”

_“Cooooold”_

“Shh, quiet, you big baby.” she scolds “I need to hear well.” he unhappily shuts his mouth but still jumps whenever she moves the stethoscope around and furrows her eyebrows at what she’s hearing.

“When’s the last time you took the blood pressure meds?” he huffs and tries to turn his head away “Bellamy!”

“I ran off of them last week.” she wants to kick his ass and if he wasn’t barely awake right now she would.

“And you didn’t tell me to get you new ones because?” he shrugs and hides his face in the pillow. His heart didn’t sound good at all and his pulse was way too fast for her liking. When she took in his blood pressure of course it was too high and it just got her angrier.

“When’s the last time you slept well? I mean a really good eight hour sleep?” he tries to ignore her, closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep but she knows better and she squeezes his hand “Come on, Bellamy, just be honest.”

“I don’t want you to get mad.” he mumbles. “Like this morning.”

“I won’t, I just need to know so I can take care of you.” she rubs her thumb on the inside of her wrist “This morning was a mistake, I shouldn’t have yelled so much.” he looks up at her like a kid, so small and vulnerable and she puts away all her medical stuff so she can sneak in under the blankets near him again-she’s happy to find his body warmer now, but the fact that he had passed out and his blood pressure was so bad scared her.

She knows how to make him honest, though so she carefully slips her hands behind his back and lifts him up, holding his upper body to her chest, stroking his hair carefully, lovingly-he groans when she rubs at the back of his head a little, knowing it was his favorite.

“It’s been...about a weak.” he finally says and she commands herself not to be angry.

“Why?”

“I have nightmares.”

“About what?” her lips ghost over his forehead “What do you see?” he shrugs a little, wraps his arm around her stomach and pulls her closer, adjusts his head on her boobs buries his nose in them and breathes her in.

“You know how the other day we caught Casper beating up his kid?”

Casper was one of the Factory station residents who had survived the crash landing after sneaking into Alpha using his son, Tommy as a golden ticket.

He was irresponsible, often got drunk and couldn’t hold a job no matter what task they gave him, he fucked it up. He had set one of the smoke houses on fire just last month and the council wanted to cut off his rations but didn’t because of the boy that would’ve starved otherwise, not that Clarke thought he was giving the kid much food to begin with.

She had a feeling he spent most his points on booze and completely neglected little Tommy.

“Yeah?” he buries himself deeper in before he keeps on, it takes him a moment and a lot of Clarke’s brushes and hair tugs before he keeps going.

“I never told anyone but...when I was little my mom she...she used to sleep with random man for rations. After O was born, she’d sleep with people in power-guards or councilmen so she would know when we’d have surprise inspections.” she grips on his hand to let him know she’s listening but won’t interrupt “O never really knew...or at least I don’t think she did.” that was understandable, he always took in the burdens of those things himself but there were still a million things Clarke wasn’t aware of from his time on the Ark or his childhood-he has just recently started opening up about that and it seemed like it was deeply traumatic.

“There was this guy he was...he was really mean, rough with her. Mom would...she’d lock me and O in the bathroom when he came over. I was eight or almost nine and my sister was just a baby still.”

“What did he do?”

“He’d hit her...hard, yell even, toss stuff. I could hear him and I’d get desperate, try to get out, hit the door with my body, bang my little fists on the wall, cry, call for mom, tell him to let her go but it was locked and I couldn’t...I couldn’t.” his tears roll over his face and wet her shirt. 

“One night mom forgot to lock us or maybe she did it on purpose, I don’t know...maybe she needed help but didn’t know how to ask for it...where to get it from.” he sniffles “The moment I figured it was open I jumped outside and I saw him...hitting her-”

“Oh, Bell-”

“I jumped on his back, started hitting him with my little fists, scratched his face, pulled him away from her and he was surprised at first but then when he figured out what was happening he grabbed me and he was so strong...he threw me off into the wall and I bounced like a ball-” he chuckles sadly as the tears keep rolling off his face “Then he came to me...I was scared, but I was happy he left mom off.”

“Did she try to help you?”

“She couldn’t...not at first. She was hurt too and she fell to the floor herself. Meanwhile he took off his belt and started hitting me.”

Clarke’s surprised when he takes her fingers and places them on a scar near his elbow.

“Here-” her heart clenches when he moves down to his left side, on his ribs “Here.” she had always wondered where these came from but thought it was from a hunting trip when they first hit the ground or a guard training exercise or something stupid...something awfully mundane. “And here-” he presses her fingers to his right butt cheek where she knew by now, the feeling of the three identical sharp lines.

She had touched them a million times but never asked him about it-he had scars all over his body, they both did and yes his were more-on his legs, on his chest, on his arms and legs. Some of them she knew about, some of them she’s patched up herself but the others...

Were they all from sad stories like this one?

That man must’ve hit him pretty hard for them to scar, she knew he probably bled a lot, must’ve not been able to sit properly for weeks after, she can only imagine the bruises left on his tiny eight year old body and right now she could see them vividly because she treated them in little Tommy just the other day.

Bellamy had been the one to bring the kid in-he heard the commotion himself, try to talk Casper down but he attacked them, tried to punch him and they had to cuff him and throw him in a cell before Bellamy picked the boy up. He was covered in bruises and cuts, belt marks all over. She had seen Bellamy was shaken then, she just never knew it was because of this.

“Oh, Bell-” she cups his cheek “I’m so sorry.” he closes his eyes and gives her the barest of nods “You’ve been dreaming about him since then?” he shrugs a little and he buries his face back in her chest. “I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

“Neither does Tommy.” he whispers “Or any kid really.”

“I know.”

“I’m tired, Clarke.” and she knew he didn’t just mean physically.

“Get rest, I’ll be here.”

“You’ll hold me?” his voice is small, he sounds so much like Tommy when Clarke told him she’ll hold his hand while he fell asleep after patching him up.

“You know I will.” he humms and buries himself closer, adjusting his body sideways so that he’s more comfortable while she fixes the blanket over him, making sure he’s warm enough.

There are a million things she wants to do now-she has to feed him, properly when he rested, she had to take him to medbay, to her mom for a proper examination first thing in the morning, she wanted to ask Miller to look for some winter clothes in the storage room and then finally talk to Kane so they could cut off on his hours.

She makes a mental list in her head about everything she needs to get on while he stills in her arms, his breathing evens out, his body slacks against her and she keeps stroking his head feeling content to have him here like this, to be able to hold him after a week of not doing so.

Clarke loses track of time, her brain won’t shut up, her thoughts take her to his story and she imagines him as a little boy, trying to help his mom, throwing himself recklessly, stupidly in danger for her.

She gets angry at the way they had to live and then she remembers how she found him today, how broken she was and she get angry at herself, once more, for not doing a better job.

He deserved better.

He deserved so much more.

What pulls her out of her mind is the feeling of something against her stomach and it takes her a moment to realize that it was his hard cock. She smiles when she looks down on him, his breathing has changed, he’s panthing a little and then she realizes that he was... not just drooling on her shirt but that his lips were looking for her nipple.

“Hey-” she cups his cheek, she’s not sure if he’s dreaming of something bad and looking for her comfort or if he just needed her. His eyes open up just barely and she sees the tears in sadness in them which answers her question-he was dreaming of something bad but upon feeling her hold him, his body reacted to needin her.

He looks up all loopy and boyish and she leans down to kiss him sweetly.

His lips were hard and puffy from the cold air he’s been exposed to, his skin was rough to the touch even on his face and his hands were like sandpaper-she knew she had to put some of that cream Monty made, the thought made her stop and roll off of him for a second which resulted in an eruption of unhappy groans.

“Give me a second, okay?” she moves back to kiss his forehead before sliding off to the night stand, yet another thing in their cabin made by his hands, opens it up and digs out the little tube before coming back to him.

“Hey back.” he manages voice drowsy.

“Hey, sleepy head.” she ruffles his hair a little as she squeezes some of the cream’s content on her hand and pulls the blanket down just a little, letting it slide to his elbow. Her fingers touch the scar he showed her barely an hour ago, she rubs her fingers expertly into it and he opens his eyes agai, staring at her as she did this-he doesn’t fight her, knows exactly what she’s doing-she couldn’t remove them, but she could soften them, she could kiss them, she could make it better.

She moves back closer to him, sneaks her hand under the sweater and the shirt that had warmed up his upper chest and she easily finds the second scar, rubs more of the cream that smelled like linden, lemon core and dandelion into his skin.

The effect it has on him is impressive.

He pushes into her again, his hard cock ribs in her cortch and he groans a little.

“Clarke-”

“Shh, mom’s got you.” the moment the word escapes her lips he groans and buries his head in the crook of her neck, his lips finding her skin, nudging her sleep shirt away with his nose and sucking into her skin.

Meanwhile her fingers slide to his bare ass-she had to admit there was something really sexy about him being dressed up but naked below his waist.

She pays special attention to the three vertical scars there and he moans into her, cries out even and she knows his own hands reach for his desperate cock but she stops him, swats them away and instead pulls him closer to her, cups his buts cheeks and threads over them like a cat knitting over his tender skin. His breathing grows even more shallow and she feels his heart beat faster against her chest.

“Hey, we need to take it easy, okay?” she whispers “I don’t like your blood pressure.”

“But-....I want to.”

“I know...just let me do the work, okay?” she whispers meeting his eyes momentarily and he nods though he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t do anything to her as much as he wanted to. His cock is painfully pinching her stomach now and he stars writhing against her despite his best attempts not to.

“Clarke, I can’t...it hurts.”

“It’s okay, shh-” she splashes a little more cream into her hand, leaves his beautiful, warm, soft butt and moves to grab his cock. He gasps when she starts sliding her hand up and down with ease, pumping him up. He quiets for a moment, settles and all she feels is his breathing on her neck, his head buried in her before it gets to be too much.

“I want to be in you-” he begs “Please”

“We can’t...it’s too much of a strain on you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You passed out, you’re not fine and until I take you to mom and we know more we’re not doing this.” he looks up at her and it feels like he’s about to start crying which breaks her heart.

“Hey, it’s okay, doesn’t mean we can’t do other stuff, right?”

“I want to touch you.”

“Then touch me, but this-” she squeezes his dick a little and he yelps in surprise and pleasure “Is not going in me.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” she pets his balls just for emphasis when she goes back to the base of his cock and his face softens in pleasure. “You love this, I know you do.” he nods a little and puts his hand on hers, trying to help out but she once again for the thirtieth time this day swats him away. 

“Tonight is about you, okay? Let me take care of you.” he doesn’t seem to like that too much, of course he doesn’t, he grumps a little and to give him something she takes his hand and shoves it under her shirt, lets him caress her stomach for a while, he loved the softness there, it calmed him and she rolls them over so that he’s half sprayed on her and she’s holding him up again, supporting herself on the pillows and bedboard behind her.

“One day...when this camp’s in order...and we’re ready...I’ll put a kid in here.” he tells her with a boyish smirk again.

“You can’t wait for that, can you? See me grow-” she takes his hand and puts it on her boob “These getting bigger, full of milk for our kid.” he groans at that and squeezes her carefully “Bet you’d pass out when you see me like that.”

“Not sure my old sucker can bear seeing the most beautiful view.” it takes her a moment to realize he maens his heart and she furrows her eyebrows at him.

“It’ll have to cause you’re not going anywhere until that kid’s at least sixty.”

“That’s a long time, princess.”

“Yeah, well I’ll make sure you survive it, okay?” he doesn’t say anything but feels she’s growing worried, anxious so he kisses her neck again, peppers her collarboan while his hand keeps teasing her breasts. She had temporarily abandoned his cock, lost in the conversation and she realizes that’s exactly what he wanted to do-his stupid selfless ass, taking the attention from him to her.

But his movements go slack again, he yawns like a kid and he starts drooping once more, humming sweetly, softly as she held him.

When her hand goes back down to him, she knows she had to help him get some, any realease if she wanted him to sleep once more so she pumps him harder and he bites on her shoulder when he spills all over her stomach and tight.

She doesn’t let go of his softening cock, though, she liked holding him as much as he liked sucking off her tits so one hand remains wrapped around him until it gets to be too much for her too and she gets up to bring in a fresh wet towel and clean herself and him up making him moan in his sleep and her chuckle at his inability to keep his hands off of her. She can't say she hated him having such a reaction to her body-in fact, she couldn't get enough of it herself, so she expertly slips back under the covers, buries one hand in his curls, the other cups his beautiful cock as much as she can wither small hand and lets herself just be there with him. 

He’s midway into another short nap and she’s starting to doze off herself when he wakes up with a start-his whole body stiffens, he shakes and kicks the blankets hard and screams like a hurt animal, like someone just grabbed him and tossed him in the wall, hitting him, kicking him, hurting him.

“Hey, hey, easy, wake up!” she shakes him a little and his eyes bolt up to her, it takes him another moment to realize where he is. 

“It’s okay, I’m here, I’m right here, come on.” he’s so scared, his whole body frozen and slack at the same time-he couldn’t make himself move, so she pulls herself up and drags him in. 

Her hand reaches over for the glass of water she put on the drawer before and tilts his head up, trying to help him drink some. He spils some on himself, chokes up like a baby and with some shooshing and adjusting he manages to drink it up and fall back in her arms.

He’s shaking now, badly, panting with paralyzing fear, eyes lost, full of pain and when her hand ends up on his neck she finds his pulse thrumping too fast again, like when she found him with Miller.

She had to find a way to make him calm down and the only thing she can come up with is to cup his face and tilt his head up to her.

“Hey, breathe in with me alright, just breathe in-” he tries to “In and out, alright, that’s fine, in and out-” his face was burning up now-with his anxiety, the worse it was, the more he sweated, the more his body temperature rose.

He had already sweated through the shirt as she finds out when she sneaks her hand back to check on it but she decides against changing him now, it’d require too much moving so instead she keeps talking 

"I’ll put you down for a moment, okay? I’ll be right back.” he’s so paralyzed with fear that he doesn’t even manage a nod. 

She quickly leaves the bed and comes back with another cup of water as well as a small bowl where she dunks a clean rag and expertly sneaks back in with him, placing it on his forehead.

He exales the moment he feels the cold and watches as she sits in bed and takes off her shirt.

The moment his eyes actually fall on her boobs his breathing goes back to shit and so does his heart.

He lets her pick him back up, he was literally that helpless, his anxiety and emotions left him absolutely fucked up. She carefully guides his face to her chest and he kisses her breast first, just kisses it, nothing else, he feels like he’s taking too much of her-she’s holding him differnetly now, he’s not pressed to her side, she’s moved him diagonally, like a mom holding her baby, she’s talking but he doesn’t comprehand much of it and her hand stays on his forehead, pressing the rag, moving it down his face, his neck before dunking it in the water again, squeezing it and placing it over him again.

It feels good.

“Come on now, why are you being stubborn.” she nods at her chest, the nipple he’s not taking in his mouth. He simple closes his eyes and buries his face in her but doesn’t attempt at anything else “Bellamy-” he shakes his head, he didn’t need anything else but beig held by her, being pressed to her was more than enough.

So she doesn’t pressure him, she understands this is enough for now.

Still, later on when in his sleep, finally a more fitful one, he opens up his mouth to kiss her and looks dor her, she picks her nipple with her fingers and carefully, slowly, puts it in his searching mouth.

He sucks into her and smiles, groans, her had slides down to his bare butt, stroking the scars away and promising herself, she’ll never, ever let him get hurt like this again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Again, didn't think I'd write more of that but I just had to...I guess LOL.
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @bellamyblake!

Bellamy walks in their small cabin, head bowed, trying to dust off the snowflakes from his hair that he gathered on the way from the wooden sheck home and curses a little as he shrugs off his jacket and boots and sees his wet socks, knowing it won’t make Clarke happy.

“Hey babe, I’m home!” he announces and looks up finding Clarke grouchily perched up on the bedboard of their pushed-to-the-hearth bed, half naked, the plaid shirt he’s found for her, one of the many he’s aquired on the final months of her pregnancy, unbuttoned and their two-month old baby boy, the sweetest, cutest, tiniest man in her arms, sucking off her right breast hastily, smaking his little lips so fast that Bell could hear him from all the way here.

“You’re late.” she says grumpily not looking up, instead choosing to stare at the beautiful face of their son and move uncomfortably in the bed, trying to find herself a place that didn’t make her back hurt.

He furrows his eyebrows at that but tries to calm down his anxiety when it came to seeing her in pain yet again-the reason why he was late, afterall, was because he was working on the swinging chair he never got to finish on time.

She needed it desperately, she was up in odd hours of the night feeding their sweet boy and she had no comfortable place of doing it. 

His heart lurched in his throat as he watched her adjust the pillows with one hand-she has been through so much in the past nine months. About a year ago they started talking, quietly at night when he was allowing her to _take care of him, to hold him, kiss him, spoon him, love him_ with her hands, with her body, that if they wait for camp to get to some mediocre level of decency they’d have kids when they’re sixty.

So they had start trying.

That very same night.

It didn’t work right away.

In fact it didn’t work for a month or two and Clarke was starting to get annoyed while he felt as if he was failing her because he blamed himself.

And then one day he’d come home to find her in bed, much like now, only curled up on her own and staring at the fire.

She looked dazzled, like something bad happened and he threw off his clothes, rifle and bag and rushed in.

She hadn’t even heard him and jumped a little when he lay down next to her.

“Princess?” he asks sneaking a hand over hers that’s resting on her stomach “Is everything okay?” she doesn’t answer at first and he moves up to look at her face only to find tears streaming down her face which scares the hell out of him. “Clarke, what’s happening, you’re scaring me?”

And then she smiles and rolls over moving her hand over his and rubbing it over her then still flat stomach. He’s confused at first and then it dawns on him-the light in her eyes, the tears, the curve of her lips-she wasn’t sad, she was happy.

Tears immediatelly gather in his eyes too.

“Are you-” he chokes up on the words “Clarke, are we having a kid?” she nods and laughs, the sweet adorable chuckle she’d let out when he sometimes came behind her wrapped his hands around her, lifting her up in the air and making her squeak.

He laughs too and she thinks it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard, then he leans over and captures her lips with his for a long, beautiful, loving kiss. He pours his heart out and when he moves away his tears are dropping over her face making her ticklish but she quickly moves her hand up and cups his cheeks brushing them away.

“You’re going to be a dad, Bellamy Blake.” she whispers before moving up and kissing him herself this time.

He laughs again, sniffles like a little kid, brushes his tears away as if embarrassed by them before moving down to her stomach and grabbing the hem of her shirt.

“Can I?” he asks and the tenderness with which he says it, the softness, the sweet boyish innocence, his sweet significant smirk, a little cheeky, a little sneaky but making his whole face light up makes her lurch forward for another kiss that he only breaks because he’s too desperate to touch her there.

She patiently lays down on the pillows and nods.

“You can.” she finally says and he beams, literally beams as if she just lay the world at his feet and though he’d never, ever, because he was Bellamy after all, would want to take it all, he still needs to reach for this one thing, touch this one thing, like a forbidden apple but one full of hope for the future-full of life-his and hers combined, now nestled in her stomach, growing slowly, but not yet visible.

He pulls her shirt up (which in fact is yet another one of his because she came home and changed into it, wanting to feel him, have him over her-them now, until he could join them too) and just stares at her stomach as if in awe, though there’s nothing there yet, nothing to see but still his eyes tear up again.

When his hand sprays over her naked skin she shivers a little, feels the heat between her legs pool immideately, it was almost embarrassing the effect he had on her but she couldn’t-, wouldn’t really be ashamed, not right now and not about her husband loving her so much her body immideatelly reacted to it at the barest of touches.

“How far along are you?”

“Mom says I’m about three weeks in.” he nods, smiles again as he keeps carressing her.

Still smiling he rests his chin on her pelvis and the hum he lets out reverbarates through her body.

“That explains why you’ve been feeling so bad lately.” he shakes his head a little and looks up softly “I’m sorry.” his words break her heart.

She knows if he could he’d carry this baby himself so he could take all the pain away from her, all the suffering, the aches and sores that came with carrying a child that she was yet to discover but knew were a part of motherhood too, an inescapable yet still beautiful part of it all she was eager to take on.

“Don’t be, I’m okay.” she promises running her fingers through his curls making him smile a little again which always warmed her heart and again...other parts of her too. If she kept it that way he’d probably be able to smell and feel her embarrassing wetness sooner than she wanted him to discover it. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” he promises “I’ll make sure of it.” she knows he’s not just saying it like that, that he’ll follow through, that these words are as much of a pledge to her and the baby as the "My sister, my responsibility" was to Octavia and it scared her and made her worried more than she wanted to admit but in that moment she had put it at the back of her head, thinking she’ll talk to him about it when things settled and they weren’t soft mushes of sweet warm emotion, of joy, happiness.

“Hey, kiddo.” he mumbles next, peaking up at her as if asking for persmission to do this, talk to her stupidly to her still flat stomach, she just beams in returns which he takes as permission and rubs his nose near her belly button.

“It’s your dad here.” his voice grumbles soft, sweet, a little too hoarse with emotions “Now I know your mom will do all the work for you in the next nine months but I’ll be here too, okay?” he kisses her and she gets ticklish, arches her back which makes him laugh again. 

“Anyone ever told you you’re too much of a sap sometimes?” he shrugs a little embarrassed but still lays on the bed next to her stomach and keeps his hand on her skin, staring at it lovingly as if he could already see the child, hold it, protect it. Her hand remains burried in his curls and they enjoy the softness of the moment before she speaks.

“You think we’re allowed to feel afraid?”

“I think we can be terrified.” he looks up again all soft and sweet. “It’s a scary thing, raising a child, especially out here.” she nods and her hand moves to his cheek cupping it softly mirroring his hand on her stomach “But I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

“Me either.” she promises and they stay like this still dazzled, surprised, maybe a little too taken aback trying to process it all, but happy, drunk on their emotions, their joy. 

The night is spent making love-he eats her out at first when his hand moves down her crotch and he feels her wetness and then she jerks him off before he enters her but he’s slow, maybe a little too slow, to afraid thinking he’ll hurt her or the baby until she almost kicks his ass with her heel and forces him to move, complaining she won’t come if he keeps up that speed for a week.

The next months are hard to say the least-she first trimester passes okay, with weird cravings like desperately needing watermelon at three am even though she’s only tried it out once, making Bellamy leave camp in the middle of the night to go to a Trishanakru village and trade for not one but two only to come back home and find her waiting for him on the front porch bursting into tears upon seeing what he’s done and lurching in to wrap her arms around him.

That happens with all kinds of weird things like her craving a roasted duck with mushrooms and carrots for breakfast of all things and him waking up Murphy at five am to cook it for her in exchange for his nice thick winter jacket and two bottles of Monty’s moonshine or her deciding she wants apple slices with honey and chestnuts which causes him to climb the nearby tree just after his very tiring long guard shift and falling off, busting his kneecap which in turn makes her cry for a day.

They find out the baby will be a boy so they both throw all their efforts into preparing for him, most of all Bellamy who decides to use the good summer weather to expand the cabin, build a better bathroom space for them and make the crib and more furnature for their place.

He literally never stops.

It scares the shit out of her how little he cares about himself-he goes through more injuries in those nine months than she’s ever seen him before.

From the minor cuts and bruises on his hands and torso to broken ribs after falling when trying to carry home a big tree for the said cabin expansion, to the knee cap incident, to a stupid concussion that he got because he tripped over on their front porch when he was coming home because he was so tired his eyes were half-opened.

The worst of it all was when his heart went out of rhytm once they found out that Clarke’s blood pressure’s too high for Abby’s liking and she had to spend the last two months on bed rest.

He had pretended to be taking it fine, he always did, during the day-he was strong and fine and there wasn’t a problem, he showed no weakness, no hesitation but he had spent the entire week not sleeping and instead staring at her and the baby all night, making sure she’s okay, bringing everything for her, refusing to let her go up unless she needed to use the bathroom and spreading himself so thin with anxiety and worry that he simply came home one night and passed out.

She had a talk with him then, because the truth was he hadn’t let her take care of him, like properly take care of him since they found out about the baby and especially in the past few months, at least not like before. He’d go soft at night, let her hold him, but with the growing stomach between them she couldn’t spoon him properly and the only thing he’d let her do is hold his head over her visibly growing boobs and run her fingers through his hair. 

Otherwise he pushed all questions of his well being away and it got her so angry sometimes that she wanted to yell at him.

That day though with him ending up in medbay yet again she waits for her mom to leave and crosses her arms over her big eight month-old bump with the angriest expression on her face.

“This ends here.” she announces and she wishes she could stand up so she could look more threatening, more like she means that this isn’t another one of their banterish jokes but her ankles are swollen and she’s sick with worry over him, eyes pinned on the monitor measuring his heart beat and blood pressure her mom hooked him up with.

He groans, pretending not to know where she’s going with this and again because it wasn’t evening and they weren’t home so he couldn’t simply allow her to take care of him he just covers his eyes with his arm and sighs.

“You should be at home, resting in bed.”

“No.” she gets mad now and forces herself to stand up and grab his hand pulling it away so he can look at her, he needed to see her to know she means it “This stops.”

“Clarke-”

“This is the last time you end up here while I’m pregnant, you hear me, Bellamy?” 

“I’m okay, don’t make a big deal out of it.” and that pisses her off even more because he won’t let it go, won’t surrender when he knows he has to.

“It is a big deal! All of it is a big deal, you’ve been running yourself thin all these months and I will not let it happen anymore.” something in her voice must make him realize this is serious because his facial expression changes, his features soften and he relaxes against the pillows tiredly.

“All I want to do is help.”

“I know that but if you kill yourself before your son is even born, you wouldn’t be helping any of us.”

“Clarke I-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” she cuts him off “When mom lets you come home you’ll be resting and eating properly and you’ll let me take care of you again.”

“I haven’t stopped-”

“Yes, you had! You won’t let me hold you, touch you or even _blow you_!”

“Clarke!” he raises himself on his elbows outraged that she had spoken it all out loud even though the medbay’s empty. 

“I’m not ashamed of those things, Bellamy, in fact, I love them and I want you to let me be there for you like before.”

“You’ve been sick.” he huffs as if frustrating why she can’t get why he’s done all of it which she does, of course she does but she hates seeing him in so much pain.

“I have high blood pressure, it’s not the end of the world.”

“It’s risky and you know it, your mom said so, that’s why you’re on bedrest.”

“What’s the problem in me holding you while I’m in bed?” she counters sitting on the edge of the cot needing to rest her sore ankles for a moment, putting her hand on his knee forgetting it’s the bad one and making him wince at the pressure before she pulls away and gives him another angry look. 

“I won’t let you help me, take care of me, if I can’t do the same for you and if you don’t like it, you can take your stuff and go! I won’t raise a child in this environment. It’s unhealthy and you know it. You know it because you already lived it with your mom and Octavia so I really don’t get why you’re doing this.”

“Clarke I-” he pleads.

“No!” she raises her hand before him “This is it, Bellamy-you either let me help or you go off and be a stubborn ram somewhere else.” he sighs, finally letting go, she can see it in him, how he breaks at last, allows the weight off his shoulders to leave his sore body, his heart that’s beating too fast, too loud tries to stubbornly push against his sound mind that’s telling him she’s right but he ignores it and finally nods.

“Okay.” he says softly and she relaxes too, her hand rubbing over her big pregnant belly. “Alright.”

“Good,” she settles with a nod “Now scoot over.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to hold you, you ass.” he groans but his lips are curved up and he moves a little, giving her enough space to lay down next to him, force him to turn to her and rest his head on her boobs. They both exhale as if finally all is right in the world. 

“You scared the shit out of me, Bellamy.” she whispers “And I don’t ever want to feel that way again.”

He doesn’t say anything back for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” she glances at the heart monitor staring at the numbers, the waves rising and falling “Or at least not all of it.” if he had just rested more, if he had not pushed himself as hard this wouldn’t have happened but his heart went off sometimes, when the seasons changed when his anxiety grew very bad even when he was letting her take care of him and while it was never this bad, it was bound to happen once in a while.

She just hated whenever it did.

When Gus was born there were complications, she lost a lot of blood and was unconscious for a few days which were the scariest in his life.

He’d sit by her bed with the sweetest little boy in his arms and talk to her, beg her to come back to him which she eventually did but she was still weak, she still had fever for two weeks, her blood pressure was all over the place and she was very wobbly on her feet for weeks.

In all honesty she had only recently got her strenght back and she had noticed that Bellamy has gone back to his old back habits again.

This time his anxiety was at its peak-at night he wouldn’t sleep at all not of nightmares but because he just couldn’t-he would want to make sure she’s fine, feed the baby himself with bottles she had filled earlier in the day so she wouldn’t have to get up and rest as peacefully as she could, but after he was done with Gus he’d sit by the crib and stare at him, simply watch him, smile, hold his little hand in his, watch over him in awe, as if he still couldn’t believe they had him.

He was _that_ parent.

But he was also Bellamy-it was in his nature to worry, constantly, all the time and to love, to love so deeply so passionately, he couldn’t help it roll off of him in waves and wash over her and Gus.

It was amazing.

But it also worried her and she knew that if he ended up in medbay again she’d never forgive herself.

“I thought your shift ended up an hour ago?” she prods as she watches him take off sit down on the bed and take Gus’ feet in his hand. The kid reacts immideately kicking him off and furrowing his eyebrows just barely, annoyed at his dad interrupting his dinner which makes them both smile.

“Had to help out Monty and Raven with the generator.” she thinks it’s a lie, no, she knows it is, but she can’t fight him right now because he looks so damn tired and she noticed him limp on the way here so she had to, finally, push him to lay down and hold him in her arms.

“Did you eat?” she keeps asking while his eyes are still glued to Gus.

“Nah, I’m not really hungry.” he shrugs her off “I’ll put more woods in the fire and clean up, okay?”

“You can take your blood pressure meds only after you’ve eaten, though.” she reminds and the tone of her voice must prompt him that her bad mood is not just a result of being tired or lacking her afternoon nap “There’s bread and cheese on the table, some dry apples and jerky too, okay?” he nods but she’s not sure he’ll follow through so she makes sure to remember to remind him later.

He kisses her temple and Gus’ foot that results into another kick that almost reaches his nose, before standing up and heading outside to bring the woods.

“Don’t go out in your jacket” she reminds him but he pretends not to hear her and she grows even angrier that he just won’t surrender even though it’s night, they’re at home and he can fucking just let her do this finally.

_But the idiot won’t._

He fixes the fire and heads to the bathroom to wash up.

She’s sure he’d use the cold water buckets instead of drawing himself a hot bath because it was late, he was bone tired and plus he wanted to keep the water heater full in case Gus or her needed it which they probably would but not until the next morning.

She’s burping Gus when he comes back dressed in these old red and white plaid pajama pants, chest naked and hair a little wet and she reaches to take Gus from her to put in his crib placed near their bed.

The sight of him holding their baby boy pressed to his naked chest, goofing around, leaning over and rubbing his nose against Gus, peppering his face with kisses and telling him how big he got and how dad missed him more than every today at work, she feels her heart soften and her anger fade a little.

And then she notices he limps when he comes by the crib and gently lays Gus down and her anger boils back again.

She tries to move up to scold him but the brush of her arm against her enlarged sensitive boobs make her hiss.

Of course he immideately turns around worry peppering his face as much as his freckles did these days.

“You okay?” he asks quickly sliding next to her.

“I’m just too full.” she grunts a little leaning her sore back on the bedboard.

“I thought he’s eating well?”

“He is, I just...produce too much for some reason.” she exclaims running taking her right boob in her hand trying to relieve some of the pressure against her body.

She had leaked a little, the milk was dripping down, some of it caught on the plaid shirt too but Bellamy’s eyes were pinned on her chest, mouth dropped a little, as if what he was witnessing was the greatest wonders of the universe.

“Didn’t you use the breast pump today?” he stares as her fingers massage her own breast and her eyes fall down to his pajama pants, noticing the still small buldge there which would normally make her smile but the soreness and fullness of her own self makes her a little too annoyed.

“Mom needed it for another woman today, had to hand it over.” there was only one breast pump in camp and unfortunately it was passed from cabin to cabin to all the women who had newborns which lately weren’t really a minority.

People had gotten used to the feeling of peace, of safety, they were relaxing into their new normality, so things like babies happened a lot more often than not, accidentally or not. Their little camp was expanding, slowly but surely. 

“And anyway I don’t think it’s too sanitary no matter how much moonshine you pour over it, best it can do is probably get our boy half drunk.” she chuckles a little but her fingers that thread over her swollen breast accidentally apply too much pressure and she grunts.

She squeezes her eyes shut when she feels Bellamy’s big palm on her boob, pushing her away and taking her in him.

“What can I do?” of course, he wants to help and she smiles to herself, internally, but on the outside she keeps her serious, almost sad expression and she should say she feels bad about this but...she really doesn’t. 

She had to take care of him.

“You can relieve some of the pressure.” she prompts and he furrows his eyebrows at first, not understanding what she means until it dawns on him.

“No, Clarke I-”

“Please” he hand covers his to prevent it from moving away from her chest. “I’m too full, it hurts.”

“This is for Gus.” he shakes his head “For our son.”

“He’s fed now. And anyway, he’ll have enough for later too.” she gives him her puppy eyes “Please, Bell-” her hand ends up on his neck and she pulls him closer in. “Please?”

He rests the side of his cheek on her chest just under her collar bone at first and just stares at her boob literally spilling milk down her own stomach, seeming as mesmerized by it as when she first told him she’s pregnant.

“Bell, I’m literally leaking, it’s going to waste anyway-” she rubs the back of his head to bring his attention back to her “Come on, I know you want to.”

“I can’t.” his hands move between his legs as if he has to physically restrain himself from touching her to be able to stop himself.

She sees right through him of course and uses his thankfully vulnerable position to push him closer to her right boob.

His eyes grow big and she almost wants to chuckle but doesn’t because she knows it’d embarrass him, instead she just keeps running her hand through his curls, trying to calm his anxieties down, trying to convince him everything’s going to be fine but she sees him trying to physically restrain himself, she enve notices how he is applying too much pressure on the area around his crotch probably because the sight of her naked boobs leaking were more than enough to harden, or at least half-harden, his poor cock that hasn’t received any attention in weeks because he just wouldn’t let her take care of him.

She’s sneaky though, she knows how to tear down his walls, so she tucks his wrist away and puts it on her right sore boob.

“You’ll be helping me.” she says softly, eyes big like a puppy, like Gus when he was eating too “It hurts and you can take it away.”

“You’re not just...saying that?” he mumbles carefully looking up and that’s when she knows he’s ready, he can cross the stupid line he drew himself so she just pushes his head to her boob and he hesitates for just a moment before he moves his lips in and then-

Kisses her.

The idiot kisses the soft, a little sore skin around her nipple instead of just taking her in.

And she groans annoyed.

“You either do this or I’ll head out to find mom and get the breast pump right this minute, Bellamy.” she pushes his head even closer and he finally relents, his lips wrap around her nipple and he sucks in on her, hard, almost as hard and as eager as Gus had fed and the milk leaks into his mouth.

She easily moves him over to lay his body half up sitting on hers now-he’s a child, he’s turned into her sweet boy the moment he let his walls fall so even though he felt uncomfortable at first and though there was some maneuvering to do, she manages to wrap one arm around his back, pull him up diagonally and press his head to her poor sore boob. He feeds so hard he smacks against her and when his stomach grows in hunger she throws him a look.

“Not hungry, huh?” she jokes but his eyes are half-opened and he’s just relaxing into her.

She cups his cheek and smiles, then moves her hand down to his naked back which just makes him hum as he keeps feeding from her, slower now as if he was still mentally battling with himself trying to make himself stop, knowing Gus will need it too.

“My good boy.” she whispers and leans down to kiss his head, the freckles making her nose a little ticklish and he smiles while he keeps feeding from her which doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

Thankfully the cabin’s warm enough now that he’s put more woods to the fire so she won’t scold him about being dressed in nothing but his pajama pants, her hand itches to touch more of him, to be able to hold him like Gus, press him as close to her as possible, so she slides it down to his back and marvels at the myriad of freckles there.

Gus had the same beautiful night sky on his as his dad, even some down to his arms that both her and Bellamy loved and then she reaches the hem of his pants.

When she slides it under her eyes widen a little and she looks down at him, his eyes are half opened, he’s literally a baby, like their own and it made her heart leap again.

But he was also her sneaky Bellamy.

“No boxers, Bell?” she asks when she cups his butt cheek and squeezes it hard she notices his cock jump a little when she does that and he moans as if frustrated, just like Gus, that his feeding was interrupted which makes her chuckle.

She still slides his pants down a little because she wants to marvel his beautiful ass, wants to see it as she threads over it like a cat and it must be doing things to him because he groans and pulls away from her, looking up and trying to meet her for a kiss.

She smiles and leans down, gives it to him, tastes her milk on his lips and they indulge themselves in the slowness of it until he pulls away and she just peppers his face with slow kisses starting from the forehead going down to his nose, his eyelids that he closes upon seeing her do this, his cheeks, his lips again for a quick peck and his chin all the while not moving her hand away from his bare ass. He furrows his eyebrows a little when his cock hardens even more and his body jerks to her, looking for some sort of release, his breathing fastens but he’s very tired, so damn sleepy yet he’s here with her and when he looks up at her, she can’t bear the soft look he gives her.

His stomach grows again in hunger and she moves her hand away from his butt to cup his cheek which he definitely doesn’t like considering the way he moans displeased. He literally doesn’t use words, either because he can’t or because he’s too damn tired to-he’s not even acting like a toddler, he’s a baby.

“Do you want to have some more?” she asks nodding to her chest “My left one’s still quite full.” he shakes his head and just buries his head in her chest but he’s pouty. 

“What is it, huh?” she rubs the back of his neck with the hand wrapped around his back and slides the other back down to his stomach, scratching him like a dog.

This only makes him grunt even louder, his hard cock pinches her own stomach and he huffs.

“Do you want me to take this, hm?” he gives her his big eyes again, pleading and she moves down, lower to black hair trail starting under his belly button and going down to his crotch, teasing him, dragging her nails there making his whole body jump, arch his back.

He literally scoffs at her, like a disgrunted cat that’s being taken outside in the cold weather after sneaking in, he can’t bear it, he needs her but he won’t say it.

“I want to do it, Bell, but I need to know you’ll let me take care of you after, okay?” his face twists in an unhappy expression and she can’t help but chuckle at it “You’ll let me feed you, like properly, you’ll take your meds and then you’ll allow me to spoon you and tuck you in, okay?”

He sighs unhappy with it and tries to bury his face in her chest again, away from her, as if by being quite he could escape the things she wanted him to do but still get what he wanted.

“That won’t work, you know?” she mumbles, rubbing the back of his head again, trying to pull his head away so she could look at him but he hides away and even tries to reach over and suck her nipple again but her index finger on his lips stop him and he tosses his head away, like an annoyed kid who couldn’t get what he wanted no matter how desperately they needed it. 

“I need to hear it, okay? Or at least give me a sign you understand.” another huff, he’s annoyed and way too stubborn, he doesn’t want to surrender to her, his big stupid thick head just refused to let the last bring of sanity that is stopping him from being truly vulnerable do this so instead his head lols to the side, his cheek presses against her now not-so-sore breast and he simply closes his eyes and she thinks he’s simply letting himself be held by her, thinking over her words, trying to overcome his own stupid self but then she notices how his eyebrows are just a little too furrowed and his lips were pursed in a weird twisted angle and because by now she knows him, she just knows him so well, him and all his expressions she realizes that this is more than simple stubborness-the way he was clenching his fist, the grit of his teeth, his refusal to meet her eyes-he was in pain.

Her heart jumps to her throat-why was he in pain?

“Hey-” she asks fingers back to his cheek rubbing her thumb under his eye trying to get him to look at her “What hurts?” he just grumbles, again refusing to use words and simply shaking his head a little before pressing it back to her chest again. “Bellamy-” she grows serious again but he doesn’t open his eyes despite her angry tone and she feels his body tense slightly, his back arch just a bit so her eyes simply trail down his body trying to figure out what’s not okay.

Her fingers move to his neck but she finds his pulse more or less to be normal so it wasn’t that, his heart’s actually beating in a normal or semi-normal rate, so besides his hard cock that right now wasn’t looking for release though it must’ve been uncomfortable she can’t figure out what the problem is-

And then it dawns on her when her eyes fall to his legs-she never pushed his PJ pants lower than his balls but the picture of him limping earlier suddenly flashes through her mind and she grabs them and pulls them all the way down, moving him with her as she does, making him moan again.

“Goddammit, Bell!” she curses when she sees his swollen knee.

It was about twice if not three times the size it normally was. When he broke the kneecap a few months ago, falling from that stupid apple tree he had of course rushed to go back to work before he was fully healed even though his mom warned him that he should take it easy and as a result he didn’t only hurt when the weather changed which would be the normal occassion, but when he stood up on his feet for far too long like having two guard shifts in the same day and now resting at all.

Now that he’s caught he looks up with his big pleading eyes again.

“How bad does it hurt?” she asks and he just shrigs and buries his nose in the crook of her neck but she’s angry now. “Okay, I have to take care of it so-”she tries to stand up and move him to a sitting positiong but his hard cock pokes her stomach again and she decides that he deserved to have some fun before she took care of everything else, plus it’ll probably make him a lot more compliant if he got jerked off first.

Her hand sneaks back up and she adjusts him in her embrace as she wraps her hand around his cock which of course has an immideate reaction from her but she’s surprised when as she starts moving up and down his head goes back to her chest, the crook of her neck and he kisses her there softly, beautifully, slowly.

She moans a little too, frankly the view of him naked like that before her made her so wet, in fact she’s been kind of dripping in her pants since she saw him holding Gus against his naked chest and he must sense it, he does because he slips off her lap a little but remains pressed to her side only so he could slide his hand down her pants and sneak a finger down her pussy that’s kind of dripping as much as her boobs were by now.

It must be all her hormones, the extra sensitivity that came with motherhood but she also knew some of it was Bellamy as well.

No matter how many times they’ve been together in the past two years, he was stil as attractive to her as the first day she saw him on that damn dropship and then later when she caught better sight of his face, his stupidly slick hair, his big hands, damn his hands were doing things to her-

Even now. Quite literally.

She moans and her head drops over his as she buries her nose in his curls. They pump each other in synchrony, like they do everything else in life-together. Except when he’s being a stubborn idiot who insists on sacrificing his well-being for her and their son.

At some point just before she’s about to come he pulls away and smears some of the wetness of her cunt first at the base of his cock, helping her lubricate it a little and she only now realises that she never thought of getting any cream or anything else because her mind was so busy with worry for him she may have accidentally brought him more pain.

He smiles a little, cheeky, a little shyly and she realizes why-he felt bad for doing it, as if he was messing with her movements but she shook her head in assurance and he quickly sneaks his hand back in her panties. 

It’s embarrassing that she comes before him but even in his state he knows her body so well, knows exactly where to push, how to swipe his calloused fingers against her clit, how to make her want to scream her lungs out which she can’t do with a sleeping baby next to them so she has to bite her hand really hard, almost drawing blood as she comes off of it.

He’s a little too smug when he looks up from his place on her chest that’s moving way too rapidly now as she’s trying to catch her breath and she almost feels guilty because this was supposed to be about him so she quickly gets a grip of herself and squeezes his hard cock just a little harder in an attempt to swipe the smirk off his face but also give him what he desperately needed.

Somewhere along the way her boobs started leaking again and when she looks at him again she finds him mesmerized with it once more so she puts her poor bitten hand on his neck and pushes him back down this time to her other breast which changes the angle in which she jerks him off a little and he finds himself pushing into her hand more than her actually moving as he sucks on her hard again.

He doesn’t speak, but he grunts a lot, he even bites her nipple a little in his enthusiasm making her squack after which he pulls away as if afraid and licks away the milk from her brest and stomach with his tongue which frankly makes her wet all over again but she makes sure to focus back on him, she moves her hand expertly, feeling that he was on the edge but what brings him over is when she leans down to kiss him again, all wet and wanting and next thing she knew he was spilling all over her stomach and it’s a lot, like more than he usually produced which surprises her and makes him embarrassed, as if he did something wrong, as if he suddenly gave too much of him away so he buries his head in her chest once more and just hides there as she strokes his head.

“It’s okay.” she promises as she kisses his curls again, his hair smelled like winter and chopped woods. “You did great.” she promises him and he giddly curls up even more on her. “I have to clean us up now, okay?” she says after a moment and carefully untangles him from her side.

She swears that the look he gives her makes her want to crawl right back there with him but she had his come all over her stomach and boobs and his crotch was all wet from their play so she stands up and goes to the sink, checking up on Gus in the meantime, finding him sound asleep, hands in the air by his head, blanket kicked off a little which she fixes-he was his moma’s boy after all and it makes her smile. 

After cleaning herself up as best as she could she brings in a wet rag and a bowl of water and sits by his side of the bed. He hasn’t moved at all, still curled up on the same position as before, his hands are between his legs now, his ass bare to her, pj’s still down half to his knees, head buried in the pillow. 

Clarke can’t help her hand sliding to his bare butt cheek again, stroking it gently, cupping it the way he cupped her breasts but she doesn’t overdo it out of fear he’ll get hard again-he was too tired for sex and even another blow job would probably sent him at the edge of whatever remaining strength he had.

“Come on now.” she shushes him when she rolls him over on his back but his hand still covers his crotch as if he’s a kid embarrassingly caught by his mom jerking off. His eyes are big and pleading but also so very tired that he doesn’t fight her when she grabs his wrists and moves his hand away.

His cock’s softened now and she thinks whatever embarrassement he must be feeling is just lingering from the come that had spilled all over her so she assures him with one gentle pet on his cock that everything’s fine before dipping the rag in the water and carefully cleaning him up.

His breath hitches, his back arches and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Shh, you’re okay now, mom will take care of you.” she promises as she carefully wipes his cock clean, moves it up and cleans under, his balls too, cupping them a little because she knew he loves that before gently letting his cock down and smoothing it again. 

She feels like he’s fighting with himself not to get hard so she moves up and kisses him as she keeps her hand there, cupping him, stroking his crotch like she’d stroke his hair and he finally relaxes a little under her gentleness and opens his drowsy sleepy eyes to look at her.

“You did great.” she promises when she moves to cup his cheek “Now we’ll eat, then take your meds and you’ll let me fix your leg, okay?” she explains “I know you’re tired but I need you to stay awake for me now.” he manages a nod and she kisses his lips as a reward that he gave her any sign of understanding even if he can’t talk.

She ties her hair up in a haphazard bum and tries to button her shirt up when his hand grabs her wrist and he tilts his head in pleading.

“What’s up?” she asks as she drops her hands to the side “You wanna be able to see those, hm?” he blushes a little, looks away and shrugs but she just pets his cheek “Okay, mom won’t button up just for you but if I start leaking again it’ll be on you.” she joks a little and he smiles, that goofy sweet little boyish smile before he rests on the pillows, eyebrows still a little furrowed which meant he hurt.

She brings in the bread, dry apples and jerky to the bedside drawer, moves up closer to him, helps adjust his pillows so he’s half sitting which makes her boobs juggle right before his eyes and the sight makes his mouth drop which in turn makes her smile.

“Okay now come on-” she picks up some bread with cheese and jerky and brings it to his mouth, at first he tries to fight her on it, but then under her stern look he has no other choice but to comply so being the good boy that he is he lets her feed him bite by bite. Whenever he gets some crumbs on his chest he looks down on his naked chest like a boy who spilled milk over his shirt and cleans himself up by either picking it up and eating it or just brushing it off, on their bedsheets which Clarke isn’t happy about.

“No, no, don’t do this now.” she sighs when she brushes them off before picking up more bread and dry apples and feeding him “No dirtying the bed, okay, open up now, come on, good boy.” she praises him when he eats another bite.

At some point he chokes up on it a little and she brings the cup of water to his lips helping him swallow. He manages to eat almost everything when he gets sluggish and falls lower on the pillow.

“Must’ve not eaten in a while if you’re that hungry, huh?” she asks but he just shrugs a little and she puts her hand on his neck as she helps him move up and take his pills too. She tries to put him down when he moans and tries to reach for her. “What is it?” he just groans and she figures he’s trying to kiss her, probably his way of thank you so she leans over and kisses him.

He immideately relaxes back to the pillows and she lets him kiss her softly, gently also a little wet, he tries to pull her over him but she sees right through his plan and stops him, pressing her hand on his chest and pulling off. 

“Okay this won’t work, I still need to fix your leg.” he grunts pouts a little, definitely not happy with it and it makes her chuckle but she pulls away, cleans the plates and glasses up after which she grabs her medkit and comes back, speads his legs away and sits on both sides of his bad one.

Her hands thread over the swollen flesh carefully at first and he groans, tries to kick her off, unhappy with having her there but she shushes him and applies pressure near his angle to stop him.

“You’re not getting away with this, okay?” she says when she takes out the bandages and douzes two soft cotton linien rags with cold water and the herbal liquid concotion Nyko showed her ages ago that’s supposed to take the swelling down and carefully starts wrapping it up.

“How long has it been like this, it couldn’t have happened in just a day.” he shrugs, moves his head to the side and closes his eyes, pretending to fall asleep but she applies a little bit of pressure to him in order to bring his attention back to her and he hisses unhappy with it. “I’m serious, Bell, how many days?” he shrugs “Two? Three?” he doesn’t say anything and she stops wrapping him up 

“A week? he huffs and she takes it as an yes which really takes her aback. She knew it was bad but not that bad. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looks at her, meets her tired eyes and his mouth falls.

“I thought you promised to tell me, didn’t you?” he looks down again and grunts when she keeps wrapping his knee and tightens the bandage “You lied.” he sniffles a little like a boy who’s caught eating cookies from the jar “Just like you lied about where you were tonight after your shift.” he sighs and makes a gesture with his hand for her to move up and lay next to him but she takes her sweet time and finishes his bandage, takes her med bag away and washes her hands. 

The entire time he’s whining at her like a dog kicked out on the street, like his Ares, his boy who he found a few months ago abandoned in a cave near Arkadia and brought home.

“That won’t work, Bell” she scolds a little but he just moans even harder and tries to get her, reaching his hand out to her, begging, pleading with his eyes, he looks so pathetic and adorable in his naked, or well almost naked state, his pjs were still down to his ankles, curls spilled on the pillow, desperately asking for her.

Meanwhile Gus wakes with a little cry of his own, asking to be fed again and she can’t believe when the time passed really but she doesn’t complain at all, she’s happy to hold him, press him to her chest and let him nurse, feeling much better now that Bellamy’s helped relieve some of the pressure. 

He looks at them lovingly at first, she’s standing up baby’s smaking feeding loud and happy while she smiles down at him and talks to him, humms a little melody and throws little angry looks at Bell who’s tired but somehow still awake, mesmerized by the picture.

She feels the wetness pool at her again when his hand falls down to his cock, wrapping around it and stroking lazily. The sight of him like that makes her breath hitch and he does look a little too embarrassed to be doing this but he obviously can’t help himself and it’s not like she’s letting it get to her head but she’s quite smug that she can do this to him.

Gus is fast this time, falls asleep while he’s still feeding and when he’s done and his lips leave her nipple she finds that Bellamy has started falling too on the bed, hand still in his half hard cock.

She smiles, places Gus down in his crib and then sneaks back to bed. He moans when he feels her pushing him over, making him roll so she can spoon him.

He sneaks a glance up and when her hand ends up on his stomach he brings the inside of her wrist to his lips and kisses it.

“Thank you, princess.” he mumbles just so, making her heart break but happy that he’s speaking again as much as she loved his quiet toddler stage.

“Are you gonna tell me now?” she prompts a little and he sighs again but her hand rubbing his stomach calms him down and he falls deeper into her arms. 

“I’m making you a swing chair.” he lets out finally “So it’d be comfortable for you to feed our boy” her hand stops moving and she feels tears gather in her eyes.

“There’s no need for that.”

“Yes, there is.” his hand moves now and reaches over for her “Your back hurts.” she snuggles in the crook of his neck and breathes him in. He noticed, of course he did, he always saw everything even if she didn’t, even if her own well-being didn’t pass through her mind.

“I don’t want you going to work in the next few days, not with that leg.”

“I can’t. I have guard shifts.”

“I’ll talk to Kane.”

“Clarke-”

“They can live without you for a few days.” she insists “Plus, don’t you want to spend some time with your son” she counters knowing that will be the thing that trips him over to her side “and get more of this?” her hand slides down to cover his half hard cock again and he thirsts into her unconsciously.

She’s smug as she wipes the hair off his eyes and kisses his forehead.

“Okay...” he huffs finally. “I guess it’ll be okay for a few days.” she almost yelps in happiness but decides not to push her luck so instead she takes the blanket and pulls it over them. He kicks off his pjs and turns around, wants to face her in his sleep and she lets him nestle his cock between her folds. 

The wetness dripping there makes him groan as she tucks his head under her chin but he doesn’t push into her until the morning when they wake up both of them panting, having dreams about each other’s beautiful bodies and then again she takes control, she pushes him down and she climbs on top and the smile on his face says everything he doesn’t speak out-that this is the best view in the world for him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm adding another chapter to this, though it's very clear by now that I am not good at smut LOL. However I wrote this as headcanons a month ago and I just wanted to put it down as a chapter because it wouldn't leave my head! 
> 
> Hope you still like it!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @bellamyblake!

Two months after the last time Bellamy came home hurt and exhausted he falls really badly during a hunting trip.

At first when he can’t manage to bounce back on his feet, he thinks that he’ll just need a minute, he convinces himself that everything will be okay and he just has to gather himself together and push up but instead his head falls back on the snowed ground and he feels the sharp pain start spreading not just from the left side of his ribs but also go down to his leg and up at his shoulder simultaniously.

That was the thing about falling hard-at first you think you’re fine-you feel this sharp bout of pain somewhere in your body but if you clench your teeth hard enough and squeeze your eyes shut all you see is darkness, truly, but it disappitates after a moment, you command yourself to breathe and you tell yourself it’s okay.

Until you try to move or give it a moment or two and if it gets worse, you realize this wasn’t just a simple hit-that maybe the crack you heard wasn’t from the rocks that fell down as you rolled off the hill but perhaps they were your bones-the ribs? Your upper leg or the fingers of your hand that you can’t feel because they suddenly feel too swollen and numb.

Pain spread miraculously fast, hit you like lightening in a clear summer sky and if you weren’t lucky enough, it could also stay.

And today Bellamy Blake wasn’t lucky.

But pain was at the back of his mind. 

At the front was Clarke getting angry if she found out about this. He tries his best to raise himself up on his own but he ends up needing not just Miller’s but Monty’s help too. They tug him back up to the main road with a rope as well as the carcass of the dead boar he took down with himself as he chased him on this unfortunate path that send him tumbling down. 

“Clarke will be pissed off.” Miller says as they help him up the rover and try to unzip his jacket to check for the damage but Bellamy shakes his head-he could see the blood and grime on himself-the torn up pants and the blood on his elbow but the worst was the bruising-he knew it because it was getting worse and pretty fast. 

“She’s not finding out about it so keep your mouths shut!” Bellamy hisses through teeth but even he knows, that trying to hide this from her will be pretty hard. In the past two months he had managed to push down a few little ouchies as he liked to call them-cuts and bruises that weren’t that bad or even visible and because they were both so busy with little Gus and Clarke had been more than exhausted he had managed to let them slide without her noticing.

But this...this would be a tough one to sell.

And he realizes it the moment he steps off the rover and staggers so hard that Miller has to grab his shoulder and steady him which in turn just sends another shooting pain through his entire body.

The worst of it all is that this time he didn’t even have a minute to try and lie to her because Clarke was standing on the front porch of their cabin, right opposite of where they parked the rover so they could unload the game they caught, with tiny three month old Gus strapped to her chest in the sling he fashioned a few weeks ago.

It’s like she knew he’d come back hurt because her eyebrows are furrowed and her hands are on her waist in that adorable angry way that she put them when she wanted to absolutely kick his ass. 

He tries to sell it though-he fakes a smile and waves but the moment he moves his hand up he winces and drops it back down, cradling it to his chest and closing his eyes, feeling a wave of dizzyness overwhelm him. 

“Easy, man, okay?” Miller says when he helps him stay on his feet once more and wraps and arm around his good side and walks him to their cabin. “Maybe we should take you to medbay.” he suggests but before he can answer, he hears Clarke’s voice and looks up to find her already walking their way.

Dammit did she look badass with the kid strapped to her chest and her angry little red cheeks flushed from the cold, her hair spilling in all directions, her lips pursed in a scowl-there she was, his princess, his beautiful Clarke, dressed in her black pants, his blue shirt she loved because it made it easy to nurse Gus and the puffy bomber jacket he got her so she can be warm enough. She only missed the hat and scarf and he would’ve scolded her about it was he in a more favorable position.

“That won’t be necessary, Miller, help him home will you? I’ll take care of him!” she orders and comes to his other side measuring him with a look. He must look worse for wear because she definitely gets more pissed off than she was before.

Miller helps him up the porch and Clarke dimisses him with a polite smile but once she opens the door and pushes him inside all of that is gone.

“Clarke-” he tries explaining as he leans on the wall near the door while she rushes inside and carefully untangles Gus from her chest. The kid’s sleeping, little fist shoved up in his mouth, his big curls hanging from his forehead-kid was born with so much hair it was unreal, and he smiles fondly despite the pain as he watches Clarke carefully lower him in his crib by their bed. The cabin was warm-she must’ve started the fire again after he left hunting and he suddenly feels warm and very happy that he made it back home.

Once she’s done with their son, she strides back to Bellamy, grabs his hand and starts tugging him to their bed but to his surprise she doesn’t push him down, instead she sits and looks at him.

“Strip!” she orders and he opens his mouth to argue.

“Clarke, I-”

“Now, Bellamy!” she says warningly arms crossed over her chest and he knows better than to argue with her so he just sighs tiredly and starts peeling off his jacket but when he grabs the hem of his shirt to pull it off he winces and buckles over, forcing her to instead bolt upright grab it and carefully take it off of him herself.

When her eyes fall on his body she gasps.

He’s too afraid to look down so he just keeps his eyes shut for a moment. 

“Bellamy, what’s this?” she asks when her hand reaches for his middle. He finally dares a peak and damn...it’s bad. He really did manage to bruise his entire side, not just at the front, but the back too, all the way down to his leg-it was already blue but there were bruises and some blood as well. 

“I...I fell while hunting.” he manages swallowing hard and trying to give her a look to say that it’s okay but she’s not meeting his eyes.

“How do you fucking fall like this?” she’s angry, god she’s so mad. He’s totally fucked. Probably won’t be able to go out with the party again for at least a month, if not two. Her hand carefully slides down his ribs-the bruise is bad starting from the croock on his neck, sliding down his chest and ribs as well as his arm going all the way down to his leg-peppering half his v-side with dark bruises so she grabs his belt undoes it in one swift motion and pulls down his pants and boxers before he can say shit or stop her.

“Clarke-” he does try though, he loved defying her even when he was in no position to do so. 

Of course she cuts him off before he can so much as start a sentence.

“Quiet, I need to see!” she huffs annoyed and he hisses when her hand finds his bruised thigh. It was pretty bad there, he had caught on some bushes that had pierced his skin and left long vertical cuts only one of which was deeper and somewhat potentially threatening to get seriously infected. 

She then expertly moves her fingers between his legs.

“Clarke-I-I...it-”

“What?” she says mockingly “Does it hurt?” her hand moves up to carefully cup his balls and then gently lift his dick which has half hardened since she pulled his pants down despite his body shaking with the cold from outside and feeling freezing to the touch.

“Princess-” he buckles over placing his hands on her shoudlers to steady himself. “I ....I’m fine.”

“Then why are you hissing?” she counters, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at him with her hand still cupping his cold dick. 

“Because...It’s not...not from the pain.” he manages breathing harder when her fingers move up and down his shaft just barely, enough to tease the hell out of him. He knew this was her way to punish him for being stupid, for going out after a big storm like this though she told him not to last night. 

“Are you sure you didn’t hurt your beautiful manhood?” she keeps her light voice, teasing him, prodding enough to know she’s driving him both insane and desperate. 

“Call it manhood one more time...and I’ll be officially hurt.” he grunts making her chuckle and forget for the time being that she was angry with him. Her hand moves up and down his cock, hardening him even more until she is somewhat satisfied with it and leans her head in closer, checking his balls once more, placing the softest of kisses there that make his back arch and another hiss escape his lips.

She then moves to his bruises and she qiickly comes to realize that they go all the way to the back of his leg and his...ass too.

“Turn around!” she commands upon noticing the heavy bruisng on his butt cheek.

“Clarke, I don’t think that-”

“Now!” she orders and he knows that he can’t win, not right now, not after putting himself in this situation in the first place and her finding out so quickly about it.

“It hurts.” he says next, trying to play another card that may soften the blow that was Clarke Griffin when she was crazy mad that he got himself hurt.

“I know-” she rubs her hand on his lower back and looks at him softly now “But I need to check, okay?” to prove her point she leans in and kisses his stomach, making the muscles there jump and his dick twitch in responce which in turn just draws another wicked smile from her and her lips kiss the base of his cock as an answer to his reaction. “Come on, lay down carefully on your good side” she instructs as he kicks off his pants and boxers and gently lays down on his good unbruised side. He hears her shuffle around and circle the bed, climbing in behind him fast and sneaky like a cat.

Once she’s behind him, she carefully moves his bruised butt cheek aside to get a better look-his whole right one is blue and he hisses and grunts when she touches him, but it must be mixed with pleasure because he tries to keep his body as still as possible. He hears her shuffling behind him and he only realizes she’s not about to spoon him but instead is sliding down on the sheets, when he feels her kissing him over the bruises. 

Next thing he knows she’s spreading him a little with one hand and licking into his crack. 

Bellamy gasps and tries to reach out for her, tell her it’s okay that she doesn’t have to do any of this now, but she swats his hand away when she reaches over to grab his hard cock again and starts pumping him slowly.

He moans as she keeps kissins his butt, sucking on the skin of his beautiful buttcheek that too, had freckles scattered on it and looked like a beautiful little universe with the bruises covering his skin there. 

He’s gasping hard and nudging his butt into her face a little as she moves up and slows the strokes on his cock which he definitely doesn’t like, making it known by an annoyed little gasp that in turn makes her chuckle. 

Clarke pets him with her other hand before she slides two fingers in his crack and teases his hole.

“Clarke-” he whines a little loudly and she shushes him by placing a kiss between his shoulder blades. His body looked like the day and the night right now-a beautiful summer morning and a dark beautiful night-she’d have loved the novelity of it all if he didn’t hurt which she knows he does considering the tension of his body that she was trying to ease with love and kisses. 

They hadn’t done this since before Gus was born-butt sex was reserved for the most special of occassions when they were in a soft yet hot mood-it was a treat, a guilty pleasure that they indulged in every few months when they really were in the mood for it. 

“Shh-” she whispers in his ear as she keeps pumping his cock “You can’t wake Gus. Not now, okay?’

“O-okay.” he manages quieter now and she kisses his back again as she throws one of her legs over his thigh to keep him still.

Slowly, she enters his hole with her middle finger and he moans so beautifully it makes the heat and wetness that has started pooling at her earlier, when she first pulled his pants down, grow and pool at her embarrassingly fast. 

Clarke keeps pumping him but it’s getting a little hard for her to do everything herself so she takes his hand and puts it over his beautiful cock.

“Come on-” she whispers again as he nudgest his back into her body once more and feels her nipples against his bare back through her shirt which only makes it harder for him to hold on-god if she kept it that way he’d come so embarrassingly fast he’d feel worse about that than getting hurt in the first place. “help mom out.” she adds and he grunts as he wraps his own calloused hand around his cock thinking about the contrast of having her and her soft skin there which was much much better.

“Good boy.” she praises him as her hand slides back and spreads his cheeks wider “Lean down a little so mom can give you a proper treatment.” he moans as he curls up and the angle gives her better access to his hole. Her other hand slides up to his chest and teases his nipple while she nibs on his earlobe.

All of it is way too much that he can handle right now-he doesn’t know if to let himself enjoy this ro allow the pain more than half of his body is experiencing take over-it’s an amazing mix of pleasure and pain that just drives him insane.

“Clarke, I can’t-” he admits after a moment of trying to get himself together “I can’t.”

“Hold on just a bit for me, alright?” she asks softly. she’s wet, practically drooling over his back with her legs spread like this, half of her wrapped around him, humping him just a little, trying not to jostle him too much considering his injuries that are directly under the leg she’s thrown over his thigh and that goes over his stomach.

She keeps teasing him like this and when he’s just about reaching the edge, he’s practically at the point of begging-his dick feels like it wants to burst and his butt with not just one but two of her fingers in his hole make it hard for him to keep it together anymore.

“Please, Clarke...please” he begs, voice small and so vulnerable that it tugs something deep in her chest and makes her lose her own balance for a moment, humping his bad leg dry and causing him to whimper from the pain she’s causing him which she immideately feels bad about. 

“If you’re a good boy and hold on just a bit longer, it’ll get much better, I promise.” she says leaning over him a little and meeting his eyes. He holds her gaze for as long as he can, trying to read what she has in mind but as usually, when it cames to Clarke taking care of him, of him surrendering to her, allowing her to do this, he can’t decipher a thing. 

Maybe that was why this was so deep, why they felt connected on such a level-because he trusted her and completely allowed himself to surrender to her even if that was the hardest thing he could ever allow himself to do-be weak, be vulnerable.

With her, he could, though.

So he reaches up and kisses her cheek before giving her a small nod. She seems so proud that his heart threatens to burst out of his chest after the approving look she gives him. 

She carefully slips out from his butt and rolls him over, to his back. The sight of him still pumping his cock makes her drip on the sheets so she carefully sits over his legs, straddling him and gently wraps her fingers over his, removing them from his hard swollen cock.

“You’ve done so good.” she praises him as she moves up “Now you’ll take mom in like the good boy that you are.” he looks up at her with so much vulnerability and pain that it makes her chest swell so she can’t help but reach over and swipe a few of his wet sweaty tears from his forehead and lean down to kiss his soft lips.

“Clarke, we can’t.” he whispers when she moves back up “You...can’t.” after giving birth they had been careful to have sex because Clarke had been so wobbly on her feet that he had been afraid to go there for weeks until she finally pushed him on the day Gus was a month old. And he still had been very careful with her, remembering Abby warning her to take her time, to not push herself when it came to this and giving Bellamy stern looks that made him want the ground to open and swallow him whole. 

“I’m fine, I promise.” she assures cupping his cheek and rubbing her thumb under his eyes “I’ll be okay.”

“Are you-” he begins but her other hands is already down holding his cock and before he can say anything else, protest or try to convince her stop, she had guided him in her and swiftly, expertly slided down. 

Clarke moans from the pleasure of having him stretching her just the right way and for a minute there all that both of them can do is stare down at the place where they both became one hole-it’s so beautiful, so primal and so natural it made Bellamy want to cry at how perfect it was.

Clarke feels his vulnerability because she kisses the corner of his mouth and moves down to his cheek, his neck and then sits up gently staring at him still reeling from being inside her again. 

His hands slide down to her tights and grip them tightly before his fingers slide to her shirt.

“Why do you stil have that on?” he asks grumpily and tries to move up and take it off of her but instead he winces and grunts from the sharp pain bolting through his body.

“Shhh, stop it! Let me do all the work!” she huffs a little annoyed that he even tried to do this when he knows that he shouldn’t. She pushes him down on the pillows yet he shakes his head and still tries to move up, stubbornly, stupidly which just angers her more and makes him wince even harder. His hand shoots for his ribs-it probably hurts him to have her like this since his leg is bruised too, so is half his stomach and the inside of his thigh. Even his bad knee was swollen and the blue went all to his foot and even his toes. 

She seriously has no idea how he got himself hurt so badly but she’s also aware of the fact that there’s a masochistic part of him that enjoyes having sex like this too-with him a little hurt, a little ruffled around the edges though she’d hardly call this a small injury considering half his body was swollen and blue and not in the cute kind of way.

“I don’t...I don’t want to hurt you.” he tries again moving up on his elbows desperate to be closer to her breasts which she knows he loves and which were still as round and as full as they had been during that first month of nursing when she asked him to feed off her to take away some of the tension in her body.

“You won’t” she promises as she leans down and kisses him “Now lay back.” Clarke instructs but he’s still perched up on his elbows stubbornly, despite the pain and his eyes slide down to her chest-she’s still wearing her thin paper t-shirt, the one she loved wearing at home that was his and she knows what he wants, what he is desperate for. 

“I...I want to see you...please.” he begs tilting his head at her like a hungry child, just as Gus often did when she picked him up at night after he woke up with the softest, smallest of cries just announcing his presense but refusing to bother them any more. Their son was already so much like his father it physically pained Clarke sometimes. 

Bellamy tries to slide a hand under her shirt and is just about to reach her breast when she grabs his wrist and pulls it down.

“You should’ve thought about that earlier.” she scolds and the look in his eyes makes her heart break. 

“But-”

“You wouldn’t have told me you got hurt, would you?” she counters crossing her arms over her chest and moving up a little. For a moment she almost forgets she has him in her right now and that this probably makes things even harder than they were before. 

“I...it was nothing.” she gestures down at his half bruised body before moving her hand over his ribs and pressing a little making him yelp in return which causes his back to arch and for him to thirst inside her hard. She gasps just as surprised and hopes that Gus is sleeping feep enough that he won’t wake from this small hiccup and she takes a moment to compose herself before she continues a little too out of breath “You probably broke your ribs, you stupid stubborn idiot.”

He juts out his bottom lip and it almost makes her want to reach out and cup his cheek again.

Almost.

She has to physically restrain herself from doing so.

“Please, Clarke, I just...I didn’t want to worry you...you’re already doing such a good job...taking care of...Gus-” he tries to move his hand back up to her chest and this time she lets him reach her boob and cup it softly which in result makes her leak a little and she can’t help but feel so damn hot that she has to rock up and down to release some of the tension as much as she wants to punish him right now. 

“Well...that’s...too bad-” she places his hand back down on his stomach as she starts moving up and down “You’ve been a bad boy and now you need to be punished.”

“Please....please. Can’t I make it up somehow?” he asks desperately looking up at her, his eyes burning holes through the shirt she still has on.

“Are you that desperate for my boobs?” she jokes as she allows him to move up in a sitting position and like a kid he looks for her mouth, wants to kiss her but she swiftly escapes him and buries her hand in the back of his curls tugging a little. “How many more injuries did you hide from me in the past two months, huh?” he swallows hard but doesn’t answer “Bellamy!” she insists, pulling at his hair even harder, demanding an answer.

“A...few.” he manages and she feels the anger bubble up again but to tame her spirits he tries thirsting into her, moving them both up despite his wrecked and bruised body. “It wasn’t serious, I promise.”

“Somehow...I don’t believe you.” she pulls his face back to meet his eyes and the vulnerability she finds there kills her. She keeps her eyes on his for a moment too long-god, she’s mad at him, she’s so mad but she also can’t deprive him of having this right now-he needed it, needed her. And she’d be damned if she betrayed him and left him empty handed.

She could always yell at him more later.

“You never answered me?” she asks instead “Are you that desperate for this?” she takes his hand from her waist and moves it to cup her stomach closer to her chest. He gasps like she physically hurt him and stops thirsting, which was also what she was aiming at-he had to stop pushing himself so hard right now and let her do all the work. 

He nods but apparently he’s really on edge because he starts thirsting into her again, panting as he fastens his pace, desperate for a release and now that gets her mad and she puts her hand on his chest, shakes her head and forces him down.

“Don’t you dare put any more strain on that body than you already have!” she scolds seriously.

He whimpers, actually whimpers like a baby and she almost softens at that but she manages to keep her expression serious somehow.

“So...answer me.”

“What?” he breathes hard before he pulls his body up again but doesn’t push into her, instead lets his head fall on her shoulder and allows her to stroke his curly head.

“Do you want my tits, Bellamy?”

“You know the answer to that.” she grabs his hand and moves it to her chest again, this time tightening her grip on her breast, making his hand squeeze her through the thin fabric, insisting on a responce. 

“Yes...” he pants “I am.” he whispers breathlessly before meeting her eyes “I love you, Clarke. I love all of you so much.”

“Then if you do why do you put me through the worry of not knowing how you really are?” his hand drops from her chest and pulls his head back allowing herself the chance to look directly in his eyes. He sees the pain and worry in her eyes and for a moment he looks away shyly.

“I’m sorry.” he finally lets out letting his head fall to her chest. She drags her fingers through his curls once more but realizes that he’s honest so she nods more to herself than to him and kisses the top of his head gently.

“If you let me wrap your ribs later and put some ointment, you can maybe get a peak at these, but only after we’re done with it all, okay?” when he meets her eyes again he actually looks like he’s about to sob with happiness.

“Okay...yes, absolutely” she chuckles at his eagerness. He’s so damn sweet it makes her heart clench and want to squeeze out of her chest and spill all its love to him. 

“Alright, then lay back and let me do all the work.” she instructs and he actually follows through, watching as she moves up and down fucks herself on him all good and slow, her forehead gathering the droplest of sweat that he’s desperate to kiss away but he knows he needs to hold on until she’s there too and he somehow manages to do so even if it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. 

They both come together, him spilling into her first and that on itself bringing her over the edge.

After, she lays down next to him and takes his hands, pulls his index and middle fingers out and guides them down to her center, pushing them in her still wet pussy, which surprises him a little but he doesn’t fight her, can’, wouldn’t really. Hell he’d stay here all night if he had to.

He smiles as he rolls over, laying his head on her breasts.

“I thought we were done doing that now that we have Gus.” 

“I want all of you in me.” she mumbles still reeling from her orgasm feeling soft and warm.

“Okay.” he agrees as he kisses her stomach through her shirt and rubs his nose up and down her middle like a kid as she enjoys having him inside her while her legs are still pulsing from the strain of being on top. It’s true they had Gus now, but she knew how much Bellamy loved her being pregnant and they’d talked about having more than one or even two kids. In fact it had been Bellamy who shared that he thinks its better they don’t have that big of a difference between each other but she knew he stopped pushing about it and wouldn’t open the subject after the hard pregnancy she had with Gus-he was scared. 

She wasn’t.

Deep inside she had the feeling their house will be full of siblings laughing and chasing each other before Bellamy hit thirty-five.

That’s of course unless he killed himself before that.

“You’re warm” he mumbles “You feel so warm with my fingers in you, babe.” he keeps on praising her and she can’t help but reach down to his head and run her fingers through his curls again “Our baby boy is the luckiest kid having you taking care of him.” his voice vibrates through her making her shiver with lust and anticipation “And so am I.”

“That’d be true...if you actually let me take care of you.” she says back and it comes out a little more coldly than she intends to. 

“I do.” he counters and looks up at her resting his chin on her stomach “I agreed to let you before, didn’t I?”

“Shouldn’t have been so hard.” she counters as she moves to her elbows “Speaking of which, let’s get on it, shall we?” he nods though he’s definitely not happy about it and he even pouts a little as she slides out from under him.

She brings in her med bag, makes him sit up and carefully wraps his ribs in a semi-tight bandage, then uses the ointment on his leg and bruised butt cheek, making him stand up so she can get better access.

By the time she’s about done, when she tells him to turn around, he’s half-hard again and blushing in the most adorable of ways-looking so shy and sweet.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to. I know we just..we had enoug already.” she cups his buldge with a sneaky smile.

“You’re never enough.” she counters moving up and pushing him down, joining him on the bed in a second “Come here.”

Finally, she takes off her shirt and his eyes grow sizes. Before she knows it, he’s all over her, licking them, sucking on her, pinning her down and shoving his leg between her while she half sits up on the bed, pillows providing just the right angle behind her as he marvels at her chest and his fingers slide down to her center. 

He can’t help but slip his cock in her again as he’s kissing and kneading her breast with his hands. She’s panting under him, thirsting, looking for release and he relishes in it even though he’s not certain he actually deserves it. 

“They’re so big” he says and she chuckles eyeing him fondly.

“You love them like this, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” he says shyly sneaking a glance at her before focusing on her chest again. He fucks her slowly, lazily but she doesn’t mind it at all.

They roll around in bed with him in her, fucking into her sometimes, other times just being there, suckin into her or her dragging her nails down his back.

Finally, he fastens the pace when they’re both really on edge and he comes in her again. 

After, he’s so tired that his eyes are barely opened and his mouth is half-agape like Gus’ when he was about to fall asleep after feeding off her, so she gently rolls him over to his healthy, good side and spoons him, pulling the blankets and pelts up to cover their naked bodies.

“Bellamy?” she whispers before he’s about to fully succumb to darkness. 

“Mhm?”

“If you hide your pain from me again, you’re sleeping on the floor, I don’t care how bad it is, okay?” she warns.

He chuckles and tilts his head back to steal a quick look at her serious face, her beautiful blue eyes throwing daggers his way and though he knows she’s angry, he’s also well-aware she’s doing it out of pure love. 

So he smiles and nods.

“Okay, princess.” he whispers as he closes his eyes “Alright.” she watches him fall but she stays up a little while longer just marveling having him there in her arms, her leg thrown over his her arms cupping his upper chest, her chin on top of his head and she steals a few soft kisses on his forehead and cheeks that make him moan in his sleep before she too, allows herself to fall, feeling warm, content and filled with love. 


End file.
